Minerva McGonagall and the HalfBlood Prince
by DailyProphetEditor
Summary: What do you do when your best friend's murderer turns up and claims to be innocent? What do you do when you realise you start trusting him again? What do you do when you fall in love against your will and with a man half your age? My Book 7, much AU to DH
1. A Snake's Tale

_A/N:_

_I know it sounds stupid, but **don't read this story**._

_If you are interested in a novel-lenght, HBP-compliant, MyBook7 Snape/McGonagall fic, then go and read my story "Nothing like the Sun". I promise this is my best work so far, at least if you're into angsty fics._

_Really. I mean it._

_"Minerva McGonagall and the Half-Blood Prince" here is a much abridged version of "Nothing like the Sun", which means it is the same plot, but shorter, with lots of scenes missing, in a poor translation and shaky writing style. And with lots of typos. The only reason I did not delete it is because a) I have to admit I am vainly proud of the reviews, and b) because some people want to compare "Nothing like the Sun" to this shortened version._

_If you do not already know the plot, do not read this, because it will contain spoilers for "Nothing like the Sun"._

_Frank_

_PS: __If you want to compare "Minerva McGonagall and the Half-Blood Prince" and "Nothing like the Sun", here's a list of what chapters of this version correspond with the chapters of the newly published version. It will be updated with every new chapter of "Nothing like the sun" - so you can still avoid spoilers._

1.) "A Snake's Tale" of this version contains the "Sun" chapters "Prologue and A/N", "Bereaved", and "Tale of the Snake".

* * *

_**Prologue**_

_The castle doors closed behind Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Minerva McGonagall glanced at the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw hourglasses which she had just filled with an immense amount of rubies and sapphires. Harry and his friends clearly deserved some reward after the brave fight at the Ministry._

_Inwardly, Minerva grinned. She had just returned to Hogwarts after her stay at St Mungo's hospital, and in the very first five minutes after arriving had won an argument against Severus Snape. This was going to be a good day._

_Minerva allowed herself to lean a little more on her walking stick. She knew perfectly well that she was not as good as new – as she had claimed only a moment ago – but she was darned if she was going to admit that now. Straightening up once more she looked into Snape's face and was surprised to find something like a smile there._

"_You know, Minerva, it is good to have you back here." _

"_Well, you didn't seem too happy about it just a minute ago."_

"_You really don't know how much I appreciate this? Having one person around who will stand up to me?"_

"_Someone who will best you, you mean. Severus, you are quite arrogant." A rather small ironic smile accompanied those words._

_Snape walked over to where she stood._

"_I would have offered to carry your luggage, but as you have already used my students for that purpose – may I offer to escort you to your rooms nevertheless?"_

_He actually held out his arm for her to take. Now, she was certainly not going to be seen led around the castle as if she was his elderly aunt. It was disturbing how the man sometimes used mockingly good manners for his personal revenge._

"_The gesture is charming, Severus, though I think it might be misunderstood. I am perfectly capable of walking on my own."_

"_Of course." He nodded and turned away._

"_But if you would care to accompany me to my office, I would appreciate you having tea with me and filling me in on the latest events around here."_

"_I shall be delighted," he said dryly, but she saw a little smirk in his eyes._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**One year later**

It had been such an awful day. Minerva McGonagall was standing at her open bedroom window, staring into the darkness outside. Really, all of these last few days had been horrible, with the attempt to retrieve and destroy the next of Voldemort's Horcruxes resulting only in Dumbledore's death.

They had buried Dumbledore this very morning and sent the students home one hour later. She was glad it was over now. The ceremony, then the farewell at the Hogwarts Express, and later the dinner with some of the funeral guests who would stay until tomorrow – it had been a little too much. Even after the funeral the people had avoided speaking of Snape. Of course everyone knew by now that Snape was the murderer, that Snape had been a double-agent, and that Snape had fled with the other Death Eaters and Draco Malfoy. But on the day of Dumbledore's burial, people still had remained reluctant to discuss the subject. Talking about Snape was accepting the fact that they had been wrong in their judgement, worse still, that _Dumbledore_ had been wrong in his judgement.

To most of them, that was the worst part of it. Dumbledore had been wrong. He, the greatest of them all, had made a mistake that had ultimately cost his life. Unfortunately, accepting this thought unerringly led to the one other thought most important now: "Where else has he been wrong?"

All the plans for the Order of the Phoenix, all their conclusions about Voldemort's plans, all the help and advice for young Harry that they had planned out - were there mistakes in it? Could the Order go on operating without its leader? It felt like heresy even to think of the possibility that they might have to re-asset everything they knew about Lord Voldemort's plans – or rather, everything they thought they knew about those plans.

In a way, Minerva felt guilty for Dumbledore's death. It had been her who had called Snape's attention to Dumbledore. She had directed Snape towards her now dead best friend. But her rational mind forced her now to accept that it was not her fault, that she had had every reason to trust Severus Snape. Dumbledore had trusted him. Whatever the reason was why Dumbledore had believed Snape to be on their side – she had accepted the fact without ever questioning it.

As a matter of fact, she had liked Snape. Truly, he had never been a pleasant person as long as she remembered back. But he was an interesting character. She remembered the excellent student, drawn to the Dark Arts and intrigued by them. Few of her students had impressed her as much as he had done back in those days. She had liked many, and felt motherly protective of most of them – although she had always been careful not to show it. Things had been different with Snape. Even as a schoolboy, he had shown such potential that she had at times almost considered him an equal.

When he had joined the Death Eaters after school, it had broken her heart. She had expected better, more intelligent choices from him. And later, when he had returned to their side… oh, it had taken years before she had forgiven his mistakes, but she had also felt so proud of his decision to come back. It certainly had not been easy for him. And although he was a horrible teacher and most of the time an unpleasant colleague, she had enjoyed having him around. He had never socialised with the other staff members, but after some time as a teacher, he had taken up the habit of accompanying her on her long walks in the Hogwarts grounds. Once in a while they had played chess – quite a challenge, just like their constant arguments. He was different, that was what she had liked. How wrong she had been to consider him an unusual friend.

Minerva shuddered at the open window even though it was a pleasant, warm summer evening. Closing the window and the drapes, she decided to go to bed and slowly started changing her clothes.

This evening was the first time since Dumbledore's death that she could use to calm down and allow her thoughts to wander. First, there had been so much on her mind - calming the students, arranging for their safe return home, arranging for Dumbledore's funeral. She had been so taken up by the events that she had not had a single moment to herself. Only now she found the time to mourn, and to become entirely conscious of that awful, nagging thought: "Severus Snape murdered Dumbledore. Severus Snape, a man I knew to be a Death Eater once. Severus Snape, whom I trusted nevertheless."

And that Malfoy boy had brought Death Eaters into the school. Death Eaters in Hogwarts, in Dumbledore's stronghold, in _her _stronghold now. She never would have thought is possible. It was nothing but sheer luck that no one else had been killed.

For the first time in her life, Minerva truly felt old. She had never shied away from responsibility, but now she dreaded the things to come.

Of course, she was the new Headmistress of Hogwarts and would do everything in her might to re-open the school after summer. If there was a way to permanently seal the Room of Requirement and double-check every single one of the safety measures, Hogwarts should become a rather safe place again. Also, if neither Dumbledore nor Harry were present in the school (for some reason Minerva was sure Harry was not going to return) there really was no reason why Voldemort should want to come there soon. The students would be safer at school than at home.

Minerva also feared that she would be asked to take Dumbledore's place as Head of the Order of the Phoenix. She felt not ready for it.

Nobody would vote for Mad-Eye, and she felt positive Lupin would not be willing to take the lead. Minerva's choice of a new leader was Arthur Weasley, but she did not believe Molly would let him do it. The others were too young or too inexperienced – Shacklebolt might be a good leader, but he was not prominent enough within the Order. No, it would have to be her, and not because she was ideal for the post, but because she was the only choice they had. It was not an encouraging thought.

The moment she finally curled up in her bed she knew that she would not be able to sleep. With a deep sigh, she got up again. She might as well take to patrolling the school corridors again, at least that gave her something to do.

With her tartan dressing gown wrapped tightly around her, she took her wand and one of the ever-shining candles with her. Constantly plagued by the same thoughts, she was glad to meet Remus Lupin on the second floor.

All was calm. She had expected nothing else. Not today with all the funeral guests still in the castle.

"Shall I cover for you, Remus?" Minerva asked. "I cannot sleep tonight."

"No, Minerva, but thank you for offering. I think you need rest more than I do. Do go back to bed."

There was a moment of silence, but it was a pleasant silence. Just to think that the man ordering her around was a former student of her… but yet, Remus Lupin had become a close friend. He was someone she nowadays never remembered as a student, just like it had been with James and Lily Potter, even with Sirius Black – and especially with Severus Snape.

Snape again. The memory of his face when she had last seen him was going to haut her for the rest of her life.

"You know, Remus…" Minerva hesitated for a moment before she continued in a warm voice, "I just wondered if you didn't want to spend the night in nicer company than that of knight statues and snoring pictures. I meant what I said. Dumbledore would want you to enjoy being loved by a wonderful woman."

Lupin smiled.

"I really appreciated when you said that. It made things easier, somehow. After all, it's not that I haven't been in love with Tonks for a long time... But she is in London tonight. I send her home after the ceremony. She needs to be well-rested when she shows up for work tomorrow."

Minerva nodded. "That reminds me, I think London is no longer safe for us – I mean, Grimmauld Place isn't safe any more. We will need to decide on a new place. I think Poppy wants to keep Bill in the hospital wing for another night, but then he should be free to go. We ought to hold our next meeting as soon as can be arranged."

"I shall be there when you call," Lupin said.

He was already acting as though she was the new Head of the Order. Minerva tensed; she was just not ready for this. Sensing how uncomfortable she was with the situation, Lupin added after a few seconds:

"You know, we will make this as easy for you as we can. We know how close you and Dumbledore were. Having to replace him must be an ordeal for you."

He paused another moment, pondering if he dared to ask what was on his mind. "Minerva, as we were speaking of love a minute ago… might I ask you a personal question?"

"We never were," Minerva whispered in a small voice before Lupin could continue.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "That was too private, I shouldn't have asked – especially at a time like this."

"No, it's alright." She straightened up and looked him in the face. "It's alright, really. People have always wondered. Albus and I were friends, closest friends. We never were lovers."

Lupin relaxed. So did Minerva, she found that it did her surprisingly good to be challenged on the subject of her feelings for the deceased. Lupin decided to go on.

"I must admit I am surprised. Everybody always assumed you two had to be closer that it appeared. It was accepted that you would keep this very private, but there had to be some kind of close relationship – so everyone thought."

"There was a time when I wished for Albus to love me."

Again Minerva was whispering. She did not know why she told Lupin all this. The desire to confide in a friend was overpowering in this night of mourning.

"Do you realise that when I came here as a student, he was older than I am now? Oh, I really fancied him when I was Head Girl, but that was just an immature crush. Later, when we met again, I truly wished for him to fall in love with me. But it could never have worked out – the age difference for one thing, then us working together here, all the travelling and working for the Ministry he did. Not to mention the war against You-Know-Who 15 years ago. Also I came to realise Albus was married to this school and by that time I loved teaching just as much as he did. There was a time some years ago when I thought he might have changed his mind, but the more I thought about it the less likely it seemed. Both of us have had short relationships with other people. No, Remus – "she actually smiled, "a teacher and his former student can become trusted friends, just as you and I are. But a teacher and his former student should never become an item, I firmly believe that now."

Lupin had bowed his head a little when she had called him a trusted friend, making her smile again. He could not think of an appropriate answer, so the fell into a friendly silence again.

After a few moments, Lupin took Minerva's hand and squeezed it for a second.

"Do go to bed, Minerva. I think you will be able to sleep now, and you do need the rest."

Feeling strangely relieved, Minerva obeyed. Maybe he was right; she certainly felt very tired all of a sudden.

"Good night, Remus. And… thank you." Before he could reply, she turned and walked away.

Almost in a daze, she walked back to her office and bedroom close to Gryffindor Tower. Under different circumstances, she never would have told the story of her relationship to Albus Dumbledore to anyone else. Yet, she felt not too bad about it. If one had to confide in somebody, Remus Lupin was a good choice. She had obviously needed to talk to someone; this night her defences just were down. Resolving to think about the matter tomorrow, she entered her bedroom and locked the door behind her.

Placing her wand on her bedside table, she just wanted to take off her tartan gown when something caught her eye. There was a tall figure standing in the dark end of the room.

"Expelliarmus!"

She had grabbed her wand again and disarmed the man in a flash. Strangely enough, the man's wand came flying towards her from her own table. He had not carried it on himself. Before she could say anything else, he slowly stepped out of the darkness and into the faint circle of light formed by her candle. He stood there motionless, making no attempt to attack her or to regain his wand. Severus Snape.

Too surprised to react, she stared at him for a moment before she remembered she ought to stun him at once. As she raised her wand, he spoke up in a surprisingly soft voice.

"Don't. Please. I swear I will not attack you."

He raised his hands a little to demonstrate he meant it, but did not move otherwise.

Minerva hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then she raised her wand once more in another furious attempt to stun him, but he spoke again.

"I have made certain the windows and the door will not unlock for six hours unless I command them to. And I have silenced the premises – no one can hear what is going on in here. If you stun me, forcing the door might take you long enough for me to recover in the meantime."

He gave her an odd, pleading look and continued in a hurried voice, "Of course I am aware that you could just stun me again and again or petrify me or whatever. And I will not defend myself. Please, I beg you to just let me speak to you."

"What, are you going to tell me that you didn't murder Dumbledore?" Minerva snarled. Her wand was still raised but she realised he had won the first round – she had neither attacked him nor tried to raise an alarm. How on earth had he just done that? Well, it seemed he was not about to kill her right on the spot.

"No. I have to confess I did do it."

He looked on the ground, as if too embarrassed to continue. "I was forced to."

Minerva's voice was ice. "Forced to? By whom? Do you think I would forgive you just like that because You-Know-Who forced you to do it? Do you think _anyone_ would forgive you for murdering Dumbledore? If you truly were on our side, you would rather have died than letting anyone force you to kill him."

There was an awkward moment of silence before Snape answered. He still was standing in rather dull light, so she could not see his face clearly. When he raised his face to meet her eyes, she had the impression his eyes were bloodshot and swollen.

"Don't you think I know that?" he said in a strained voice. "I was ready to give up my life and Malfoy's, too, in order to spare Dumbledore. But I had no choice."

"What does Draco Malfoy's life have to do with that? I am afraid I do not believe a single word you say."

"It was too much to hope for."

To her surprise, he sounded defeated. Was he really not going to put up a fight at all? Snape looked at her again.

"Go ahead and stun me, call help, do whatever you will. I promise I will come quietly and not resist my arrest."

This had to be a trap. Minerva tried her Legilimency abilities and found to her surprise that Snape's mind was open as a book. He made no attempt to shield his thoughts – but again, this had to be a trick. After all, if Albus Dumbledore had been fooled by Snape, then how would she find out if he was lying?

What was he really here for?

"Just when did you decide to give up? And why?"

"Right now. And because you do not believe me."

"Because I do not believe you? Of course I don't! You mean if I had believed this cock-and-bull story about you not really wanting to murder Dumbledore, you would have left and continued spying on You-Know-Who for us?"

"Yes."

"You do certainly not make sense. How on earth could you expect me to believe you? Did you think us all that stupid, that we would welcome you home in the Order after what you've done?"

"It's not the Order I care about. I only wanted you to believe me."

"I am afraid you will have to explain that more clearly."

She had said the words before thinking. What was going on here? Was she really just going to have a nice chat with Dumbledore's murderer? Something strange was going on here. Snape was not acting the arrogant bastard he usually was, and it seemed that just because his behaviour was oddly subdued, she was going to hear him out. Merlin, she was growing old and senile.

"Thank you, Minerva." Snape breathed with relief.

Minerva recoiled when he called her by her first name as if they still were colleagues and members of the same Order. He was clearly trying to lull her into a false sense of security. Snape took another deep breath.

"The Headmaster himself told me to end his life. "

"He never would have!" But even as she said it, she thought about it. Would Dumbledore ever have said such a thing? It all depended on the circumstances.

"Last year, Narcissa Malfoy told me the Dark Lord had given her son a certain task she was sure the boy would not be able to perform. To find out more, I pretended to know about it all. Narcissa asked me to help her son, and I promised to do so if possible. Unfortunately, Bellatrix Lestrange was also present. An 'if possible' promise does not do with her. I was forced to make the Unbreakable Vow that I would help Draco complete his task and, should he fail, carry it out myself.

I informed the Headmaster immediately. He told me I had done the right thing. After all, what harm could there be in helping Draco? We assumed he had been made a spy on Potter, or that he possibly had the task of finding out what students could be persuaded to become followers of the Dark Lord. Some minor task that would make Draco feel important and cement his loyalty to the Dark Lord, we thought…"

Minerva nodded, the conclusion certainly made sense.

"It was only when Draco returned to the school that we found out what his task was: to kill Dumbledore. The Headmaster did not worry much. He was sure Draco would never be able to actually harm him, but keep on trying instead. As far as we knew, there was no time limit on Malfoy's task. The Headmaster correctly assumed that Malfoy would refuse my help. As long as Draco kept on trying and I kept offering him my help we both were safe. But there was the possibility of a situation in which Draco would be forced to act by other Death Eaters – and unable to fulfil his task. The Headmaster made me swear not to break my vow then."

"If you had broken your vow, you would have died. Most likely, young Malfoy would have been killed by his fellow Death Eaters, too. But think, Snape, Dumbledore would be alive! I know it sounds cruel saying that, but there was a time when I though you would be willing to die for the man who trusted you so much."

"You would rather see me dead than Dumbledore. That is quite understandable." There was not a trace of emotion in Snape's voice now. "Anyone would choose Albus Dumbledore over a former Death Eater."

"Anyone but Dumbledore himself…"

Minerva heard her own voice before fully realising what she was thinking. It did make sense in a way. Dumbledore would have wanted Snape to survive so he could continue to spy on the Dark Side. What better proof of his "loyalty" to Voldemort was there than Snape killing Dumbledore single-handed? He might even allow young Malfoy to stay alive after this, which Dumbledore would also have wanted.

"Snape – Severus… although I hate admitting it, that story makes some sense. If you just told me the truth, yes, Dumbledore would have wanted to die from your hands. But you still did not have to do it! I know it seems a harsh thing to say, but had I been in your place, I hope would have chosen to sacrifice my life over Dumbledore's."

"I know. I know. Minerva, I would have done the same. I was planning to disobey his order and make sure he would survive. Actually we had quite some arguments about that matter – that great oaf Hagrid might have heard part of one, ask him."

"Well, then why didn't you? Disobey Dumbledore, I mean?"

"Because he was dying already. You remember how weak he was after he destroyed the ring Horcrux? How he said only I could have saved him? That was true. You know some curses can only be reversed when the healer has before performed them himself. That is why I was the only person at Hogwarts able to save him back then.

That night, on the tower, the situation was the same. The moment I entered the roof he opened his mind so I could see what they had been through. He was dying from that cursed water; it was a matter of minutes only. Only I could have saved him. But stupid Malfoy had chosen this very night to let Death Eaters enter the castle."

"So you're saying ..."

"Dumbledore was too weak to defend himself any more. He was surrounded by Death Eaters and he was dying. Had I defended him I would have died instantly, either killed by the others or through my vow. But Dumbledore would have died, too, because I would not have been there any more to save him. Malfoy was not up to his task. Had I waited for one of the other Death Eaters to murder Dumbledore, I would have died, too – not having taken over for Draco.

Minerva, Dumbledore was pleading. He begged me to kill him myself. He knew he had to die; there was simply no way out of it. I did not kill him just because I wanted to save my neck. Killing him was the only way to survive myself, yes, but now it had an advantage. Finally, everyone on the Dark Lord's Side believes me. The Dark Lord himself trusts me now like Dumbledore used to trust me. You still have your spy on the Dark Side – if you want him."

Minerva slowly sank into her armchair. She had to fight back tears as she imagined what it must have been like to see a man like Dumbledore pleading. Snape was still standing in front of her. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. It was a loud, uncomfortable silence.

Finally, Minerva stood up again and looked Snape straight into the eyes.

"Come into the light", she commanded, "Come here and open your mind for me."

Snape obeyed. They stood right in front of each other, almost touching. For two or three minutes, Minerva again searched Snape's mind, trying to detect any barriers, feeling her way through his darkest and most uncomfortable memories. After a few seconds, Snape started shivering, but remained calm otherwise. When Minerva broke off, they both looked exhausted.

"I can detect no signs of lies in your mind. But we both know that of us two, you are the better Occlumens. There is no prove you are not lying to me."

"I am afraid so."

"So what do you expect me to do now? Even if I believed you, how could I convince the others? Dumbledore never told us why he trusted you. We only believed you to be on our side because we trusted him."

"I know."

"Even if I believed you – and I am not sure I do! – I do not think anyone else would. You have never been liked within the Order. Many have never really trusted you – young Potter especially, and he's the eye-witness to what you did. I do not have the same influence Dumbledore had. Even if I spoke up for you, I don't think you would be allowed to remain a member of the Order and to continue working as our spy."

"Yes, I had thought so. I have to admit coming to see you now was a spontaneous action. After I had had some time to think about matters, I decided it was best never to contact the Order again. I was planning to work on my own, to sabotage the Dark Lord's plans without any one knowing it."

"Then why did you come to see me? How were you able to break into Hogwarts anyway?"

"I promise I used a way no Death Eater could use. Hogwarts is safe."

He broke off for a moment.

"I came to Hogwarts to re-gain some of my possessions. The Dark Lord allowed me to come back for my things because I own some alchemy instruments useful to any great wizard." Snape pointed to a trunk in the dark corner of the room where he had stood first.

"I decided to see you only after - I overheard your conversation with Lupin."

Minerva gasped in shock. This was too private. She liked Snape – no, she _had _liked Snape before he had killed her best friend – but she was definitely not ready to share her feelings with him. The whole thing had been an uncontrolled emotional outburst even in front of a good friend like Lupin. Even if the murder had not taken place, she would never have allowed Snape to learn that much about her emotions.

"I see. You were eavesdropping on us, catching me unawares and with all my defences down, and so you figured in that condition I would be most likely to believe your touching story. Very smart thinking, I have to give it to you. And to think that for a few minutes you had fooled me, that you almost had me believing your beautiful version of things!"

Again she reached for her wand, positively shaking with wrath. Unfortunately, this also slowed her movements and with a quick snatch, Snape managed to grab both wands before she did.

Well, here was the result. She was not buying his story so now he was going to kill her. She cursed herself for having listened to him in the first place.

But Snape didn't do anything.

"No," he said slowly, "I wasn't eavesdropping on purpose. I happened to hear what you were saying by pure coincidence. What got me was what you were saying about teachers and former students being friends and…" He paused for a few seconds again; then he continued in a voice that sounded strangely hurt.

"I was about to leave and you would never have known I was at Hogwarts tonight. I know that no one of the Order will ever believe me. Please, Minerva McGonagall, I just could not leave without telling you I did not want to murder him. I am content if you alone know the truth."

He trust her wand back into her hands, at the same time squeezing her hand almost as Lupin had done maybe an hour ago. But while Lupin's touch had been reassuring, Snape was almost crushing her hand. Staring into her face, he went on in that same urgent tone,

"I could not bear the thought that you believe me to be a traitor. I don't care about the others. It is your trust only that matters to me."

He had pulled her so close their faces were almost touching, and continued to look into her eyes as if he was hoping to see an answer there. Then, all of a sudden, he let go of her.

"I apologise." His face was stone again and he turned away towards his trunk.

Minerva still stood in the same place. She hated to admit it, but she simply did not know what to make of this situation.

"Snape… Severus… wait. I don't understand - what do you want from me? What good would it do if I believed you? What do you plan to do now?"

He looked at her. That one was the Snape she knew, sour-faced and never showing an emotion. Completely in control of himself.

"I am going to leave now. I was a fool to believe you could trust me after murdering Dumbledore. But maybe I will try to get away instead of giving myself up. There…"

He waved his wand, unlocking the windows and door. "I understand you will call for backup any second now."

Minerva drew in a deep breath. "Severus, I don't know whether to believe your story. But - but I think it is possible you told me the truth. I will consider it."

There was another odd moment of silence. Snape opened the window and directed his trunk outside, all the while never breaking eye contact with her. He still was a criminal on the run, who most likely had a broomstick hidden somewhere on the roof outside her window.

"Thank you," he said slowly. "That is more than I can ask for."

He climbed out of the window.

"Severus – will you come back?"

"Only if you want me to."

Did she want him to? She didn't know. There suddenly was a tight knot in her throat, preventing her from speaking. She nodded instead.

A moment later, he was gone. Minerva stood dumbfounded for another second or two; then she reacted. Just what had she been thinking? There was a wanted murderer somewhere on the roof. She rushed to alarm Lupin and the others.


	2. Becoming Minerva's Spy

Naturally, they found no trace of Snape. A quick search of his former office showed that some of his personal belongings seemed to have disappeared, although no one could be too sure about that – after all, the Hogwarts teachers did not go through each others private items on a regular base. When the day dawned, Lupin finally forced the others to go to bed and sleep for two hours at least.

Later that morning, they searched the castle again. Minerva and Lupin set to the tiresome task of double-checking every security measure of Hogwarts. Some of the charms which were supposed to protect the castle had been cast by Albus Dumbledore and might have stopped working after his death – they agreed that this probably was the reason why Snape had been able to enter the castle on the previous night. They had to make the castle as safe as possible, as they now had to use it as an emergency hiding place for the Order of the Phoenix. For the evening of that day, they arranged for an emergency meeting of the Order – actually, they also invited the Weasley twins and Bill's fiancée Fleur Delacour.

Holding that meeting late in the night felt strange to Minerva. Of course she was by now so dead tired that she found it hard to focus on the discussion, but almost everyone felt that way.

To her surprise, no one asked for an election of the new Head of the Order. Everyone just assumed it to be her, which was rather distressing. But she did not feel up to that discussion right now. There would be other meetings soon, and as long as they worked together well without electing a proper leader, all the better.

The Weasley twins were overly excited to be called into the Order, finally joining their parents and their older brothers. Fleur Delacour declared gravely that she was happy to also join the Order; she wanted to fight alongside her fiancé.

Fred and George almost immediately brought up the issue that young Harry, their brother Ron, and Hermione Granger should now also be admitted as they technically were of age – or rather, Harry would soon be – and were not likely to return to school the following year. Not feeling happy about it, Minerva finally agreed that it might be wise to approach the three youngsters. They were bound to go after Voldemort anyway, and as members of the Order they would at least be better informed and protected. She however did put down her foot over the question of Ginny Weasley joining. Ginny was simply too young.

Of course, after going over those formalities, the only topic was Severus Snape. Although many of them had never liked Snape, they all had trusted Dumbledore's word. Repeatedly he had told them that he would trust Snape with his life, and had, obviously, been very wrong there.

All of them still were recovering from the shock; and it surprised them even more that Snape had contacted Minerva during the previous night. Quickly it was agreed that his only reason for that night-time visit must have been telling his version of events and thus clearing himself of the accusations.

"So how thick does he think we are?" George stormed, with Fred following his lead.

"Yes, why should we believe him? Don't you think that if Dumbledore had foreseen this coming, he would have told us? – or told you lot, maybe."

"Of course he wants himself cleared of all charges," Moody barked, "He cannot claim he did not do it because Harry was an unexpected eye-witness. So now he tries to get off the hook by saying it was all on Dumbledore's orders."

"He wants us to continue trusting him, so he can be You-Know-Who's spy on us. But we won't let that happen, I'm telling you!"

"So what's this story about the Unbreakable Vow, anyway? Do you think that part is true at least?"

"Nah, no way. He just made that up to make his story more plausible. Poor Snape, would have died if he hadn't committed murder. Oh, now that explains it all!"

"I agree. He just wants to fool us into trusting him again."

"Oh, hush up, all of you!" Tonks interrupted, quizzically studying Minerva. "From the look of Minerva's face, I think we might not have heard all of it yet."

Minerva nodded curtly. She had not been looking forward to relating this part of last night's events.

"Snape said something else, too. Something… very odd. He said he did not expect any member of the Order to believe him. He said he was prepared to be hunted as a criminal, and would indeed never contact the Order ever again unless we want him to. He claimed he wanted to fight You-Know-Who as a kind of saboteur, without any one knowing it."

"He did not expect us to believe him?" Arthur Weasley slowly asked. "But then what was the point of seeing you last night?"

She nodded again. It was best get this over with quickly. "Well, that is just what is so odd about this all. He said he cared about my opinion only. He claimed that it did not matter to him whether any of you believe his tale, as long as I still trust him."

There was a moment's silence in the room; then Molly Weasley spoke up first.

"That's some sharp thinking of him, I have to admit that. He wants us to disagree on the matter. By making this 'noble' move of accepting the fact that no one believes his unlikely tale, he raises the odds for some of us to believe him. And he must have picked you, Minerva, because he knows like Dumbledore you are a kind person. You believe in second chances."

"Don't you, Molly?" Lupin asked quietly, "Don't we all believe that bad people can turn good again? We would never have allowed him in the Order if we didn't."

"I am sorry, Remus, but I _would_ never have allowed him, had it been my choice. I never entirely trusted Severus Snape."

"You also never quite trusted Sirius. And you were wrong there."

"I did trust Sirius to be on our side! Remus, you know I did! I might not always have approved of his behaviour, but I did trust him."

"This is going too far," Arthur Weasley interrupted. "This argument is not about Sirius, it's about Snape and whether we can trust him. And I do have to say I don't trust him any longer, although I did before."

"Why do you think he told this story to Minerva, then?" Charlie asked.

"Well, I think Molly was on to something there. He wants us to disagree. If only one of us believes he may have acted on Dumbledore's orders, we do not stand united any more. Personally I think he may have picked Minerva just because she knows him best of us all. They have worked together for fifteen or so years; that does create some stability in a human relationship."

"So we do agree not to believe him?" Bill asked.

Fred and George immediately shouted "Yes!" while everyone round the table nodded their heads.

"Maybe that's best for now," Remus Lupin said in a solemn voice. "However, it is possible that we may have to discuss this matter again. Snape may contact any one of us again – did he say anything about that, Minerva?"

"He wasn't exactly clear on that. I think he might."

They broke the meeting off shortly afterwards. Much to Minerva's surprise, the group voted to hold future meetings in Grimmauld Place again – they argued that although Snape was a traitor, he could never speak the name of the place and thus not lead other Death Eaters there. Also Snape would probably expect them not to use Grimmauld Place any more, which made it even safer.

After a short dinner together, most of them left Hogwarts. Minerva excused herself, saying she wanted to go to bed early. Truly, she felt dead on her feet by now. Just as she was about to go to bed, she heard a soft knock on her door.

"Remus? Has anything happened?"

"No, I'm sorry if I scared you. Minerva, I know we all desperately need some sleep, but I wondered if I could still have a private word with you?"

"Certainly, do come in." She motioned for him to come through her office into the private rooms behind. "Do sit down. What is it that you wish to talk about?"

They settled into two armchairs before the fireplace and Lupin stared into the flames for a moment.

"I was wondering if you had told us everything about your meeting with Snape last night."

"And what exactly makes you think I was withholding vital information?"

He made an apologetic gesture. "No, I did not mean to imply that you withheld anything. I was more wondering about… how it came to take place."

"I still don't know how Severus could have gotten in here, we've talked about that. Not a very comforting thought, by the way - I am glad that with a security system that lax we were able to send the students home early."

"That is not quite what I meant. I was wondering how Severus could have made you listen to him. I just cannot imagine you discovering Severus Snape in your bedroom and not put up a good fight."

There. He had hit a nerve. This was the one thought that had been bothering her for the last 20 hours or so. Why had she not immediately stunned Snape and called for backup? Snape himself had pointed it out; she could have overcome the barriers he had created.

"Remus… I trust this is entirely between us?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"I have been asking myself that very question over and over again. I do not know why I didn't fight. I disarmed him, and he made absolutely no move to defend himself. I know I should have stunned him."

"You have no idea why you didn't do it? Maybe he was using some kind of charm on you?"

"No, it didn't feel like he controlled me in any way. To be honest I think didn't do it just because it didn't feel right. He didn't fight; he was just standing there like – like a victim. I just wasn't up it. Remus, I am growing old."

"No, you're not," he said warmly.

"I wasn't fishing for compliments. I was stating a fact."

"Just when did you start thinking in Muggle years? Seventy-something is no age for a witch. Albus was over a hundred and fifty and few people thought him old."

"Albus was exceptional."

"He may have aged exceptionally slow – but a hundred and fifty is a common age for a healthy witch or wizard. You could easily live another seventy or eighty years, you're no more than middle-aged now. Now please stop considering yourself old."

"I certainly feel like it," she protested faintly, feeling much better after what Lupin had said.

"Don't. We have more important matters to discuss."

Lupin's voice was gentle, but he spoke deliberately.

"So if we can rule out the possibilities that Severus had charmed you somehow, or that you were simply too old to react properly, that leaves only one option as a reason for you not attacking him."

"What do you mean?"

"He must have been very convincing."

"He was." Minerva was almost shocked to hear herself say that.

"Do you believe his story?" Lupin now asked bluntly. When she did not answer for a moment, he continued in a softer voice, "You know, I think there might be something to it."

"You do? But you just said at the meeting that we ought to agree not to trust him."

"I do believe we need to agree on that. There is absolutely no proof for Severus's version of events. We still do not know why Dumbledore trusted him in the first place. And we cannot allow the members to speculate on this matter all the time. It is safer to not trust him."

"But you think he might be saying the truth after all."

"He might be. We cannot know."

"Remus… he did say something else, something I have not told you. Severus said coming to see me and telling his story was a spontaneous action. He said he had returned to collect some of his belongings and decided to speak to me only after - after he overheard us talking last night."

Lupin raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Ah, but that figures. It would certainly make sense."

"What do you mean?"

"Minerva, remember what you said about teacher-student relationships. It's not uncommon for a student to fancy one of his teachers – you said you'd experienced that yourself when you were a pupil. Well, in our final year here I sometimes thought Severus might have developed a certain liking to you."

"But that was – twenty years ago!"

"Yes, of course. But haven't you noticed how Severus has always respected you more than any other staff member? Oh, sure, he had a special relationship with Dumbledore, but did he ever like anyone else? Nobody liked him, nobody trusted him, but nobody ever stood up to him – except for you. I think he rather enjoyed it when you won arguments against him, or had your Quidditch team compete against his. I think that you respected him and treated him as an equal meant a lot to him."

"He certainly never showed that." Well, now that she came to think of it – there might have been clues.

"Severus never shows his emotions. He learned early in life not to trust others – James, Sirius and I are partly to blame for that."

Lupin got up from his chair. "I think I'd better go now. We all need to rest."

"Goodnight, Remus."

She escorted him to the door, still thinking about what he had said. Just as he was about to step outside into the hallway, Lupin turned around again.

"As for the Order, I will still vote not to trust Severus. But considering things in private… I think there may be a possibility he is speaking the truth. It is not that unlikely that he told you of all people simply because he could not bear the thought that you believe him a cold-blooded murderer. Possibly he just wanted you to know he still is your friend."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Minerva did not hear from Snape for a couple of weeks, nor did anybody else. The summer went by oddly uneventful. Had it not been for the white tomb in the Hogwarts grounds and for the fact that Minerva had now moved into the Headmaster's office and flat, it had would have seemed a rather dull, ordinary summer.

Moving into that office and the private rooms behind them had felt odd. Minerva could not help remembering how she had about thirty years ago hoped to share this very bedroom with Dumbledore. Now she slept in it alone. Oh, well – in the end she had loved Dumbledore as her best friend, but she had to admit that all desires for a relationship had come to a final end more than two decades ago. The rooms were all hers now.

Only one of Dumbledore's items remained in his former office: his Pensieve. It seemed protected by a charm and could neither be moved nor used.

But there were other, more important matters to be taken care of, so Minerva left the Pensieve alone for the moment. The portrait of Dumbledore right above it remained silent. It usually took some time after a person's death until his or her portrait awoke to their full magical personalities.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were members of the Order now. Harry had turned seventeen the previous week. There had been a little celebration at the Burrow which Minerva had shortly attended, but she had gone home early. There had been no talk about Snape or any other serious issues – she had to admit a party like that was indeed nice for a change.

There would be another festivity soon; Bill and Fleur had finally set the day for their wedding.

Immediately after his birthday Harry had set off to Godric's Hollow, hoping to find clues for detecting the remaining Horcruxes – it had taken some coaxing, but eventually he had told the Order everything about the cave by the sea and what he and Dumbledore had suspected. Ron and Hermione accompanied Harry so far, but intended to come back to school for their final year unless 'something important' was to happen in the meantime – whatever they meant by that.

Ginny Weasley did not seem too unhappy about Harry leaving again. She had understood his reason for ending the relationship with her, but still she felt heart-sore. Usually when he was around, she avoided talking to him. Possibly she simply tried to shield herself from experiencing too much pain.

Lupin had again tried to connect with the werewolves, but returned after a short while. He felt he had not been very successful.

Hagrid had wanted to return to see the giants once more, but after long discussions they had decided there was not much good in that.

Oddly enough, they had detected no sign of movements from Voldemort's side. The strange deaths and disappearances still continued, but events even seemed to have slowed. Either Voldemort was confident to have enough followers for now, or he might be struggling to overcome an obstacle unknown to them. It was presumed he would go after Harry once again, but so far not even an attempt had taken place. To be honest, nobody knew what to do but wait for Voldemort's next open move. In the meantime, all they could do was try to prepare themselves for anything they could think off.

The Headmistress was working in her new office. It was rather late in the evening; she hadn't bothered to check the time. Outside it was raining heavily. After quite a number of arguments with the ministry, she had been able to re-open Hogwarts. Horace Slughorn was to stay as Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. Minerva was going to keep both Firenze and Sybil Trelawney as Divination teachers, although she did not care for the subject at all. But with both of them there was no choice – Hogwarts was their home and they could not be sent away to face an unknown future. And at least the centaur seemed to know what he was doing in class.

Defence against the Dark Arts obviously was another problem. She hoped to convince Lupin to take up the post. After all, he had already agreed to take it once. As for the Transfiguration Class, she herself would continue teaching for now, although she hoped to find another teacher for it sometime soon.

Minerva also liked the idea of re-hiring Professor Grubbly-Plank for Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid might be disappointed if he had to share classes with her, but then again Minerva had found a way to make that up to him. She was going to make Hagrid new Head of Gryffindor House on the first day of the school-year.

Just as she was about to draw up a letter to Grubbly-Plank, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," she called, expecting Poppy Pomfrey or Hagrid – the only ones presently at Hogwarts except for herself.

Severus Snape entered the room. He looked even paler than usual and appeared to be very much on his guard. His face had a starved look, and his clothes were shabby and dripping with rain and mud. There was a little blood running down from his left temple.

"Severus!" She jumped from her seat, taking out her wand right away. "How did you get in here?!"

"Please, Minerva. I don't have much time."

He strode over to her desk, putting his wand on it.

"See, I am unarmed. I will not hurt you. I have news for you."

"You look awful. What are you doing here?" she said, not lowering her own wand and snatching his at the same time.

"I have news, like I said."

He walked over to the fireplace, holding his hands over the flames to warm himself.

"I see you have decided not to arrest me right away," he said with a nasty smile.

"Don't tempt your luck."

Holding both wands now, she continued to threaten him. He turned around to face her once more. His movements were oddly stiff, as if there was something causing him pain.

"I just came from Hogsmeade, where the Dark Lord sent me today. I was to place Madam Rosmerta under the Imperius Curse again, which I did. She is to collect information on what is going on at Hogwarts and pass it on to certain Death Eaters. Also, she is to poison Horace Slughorn on his next visit to the Three Broomsticks. I thought you might like to know so you can release her from the curse and prevent the poisoning."

"What - !"

"Then, I wanted to inform you that the Dark Lord is preparing for a great battle. When and where this is to take place, I do not know – but it will not be anytime too soon."

Snape spoke hurriedly, as if trying to convey as much information as possible in short time.

"I think he hopes to involve most of the magical community in this battle to show his power. Many will fall; others will weaken and follow him out of fear. Once he has won the battle he can come into the open. He thinks it will be a lot easier finishing Potter off when there is no Ministry and no Order to aid and protect him – personally I believe he is right about that. Potter has had extraordinary luck, and he has always had people protecting him. It will be different once he is on his own in a world ruled by the Dark Lord."

"Can you prove any of this?"

"Yes and no. He is bringing dangerous creatures into the country. I spent the last weeks in Russia and Eastern Europe. We brought five yearling dragons here to be trained for the Dark Lord."

"Dragons? To be trained for war? How horrible." Her sharp eyes rested on his body for a moment. "Is that why you're hurt?"

"Yes."

"Show me."

"What?" Snape seemed rather taken aback. "There is no time for such nonsense."

"I will see your injuries. If they look like they could have been dragon-inflicted, that certainly raises the odds for me to believe what you are saying."

"I see."

Snape was obviously uncomfortable with the request, but jerked his robes open.

"Well, if you must – " he opened his shirt and pulled a dirty bandage aside. Minerva moved closer and inspected the wounds. There were two parallel cuts over his ribcage. Each was wide and deep enough that she could have put her whole finger in there. The edges were inflamed, and there was bone shining through the pus in the wounds. Some yellow ointment covered the cuts, but they were certainly not healing properly.

"That does look painful. And I have to admit they could very well be slashes from a dragon's talons."

Snape did not reply but replaced the bandage and dressed again. She saw by his movements that he was in much pain, but no sound came from his lips.

"That blood on your face, where does that come from?"

"Madam Rosmerta. She did put up a rather good fight before I got her with the curse. Sent some of her kitchen knives flying after me."

Minerva McGonagall suppressed a smile. She could imagine the situation quite well.

"Minerva – " Snape's voice was sharp, "there are more important things to discuss than my health. There is more proof for what I am telling you. The dragons are kept close to where the giants live. Hagrid should know the place. If you sent some skilled dragon trainers there, they might be able to foil the Dark Lord's plans. But be careful – the giants are not exactly happy with what is going on. They do not like wizards and dragons all over what they consider their mountains."

"Is that all?"

"Don't you think that was quite an amount of information for now? I risk my life coming here to tell you this. I must hurry to get back to the Dark Lord."

"Before you do that, you will tell me how you entered Hogwarts again. We have increased security so much, it seems impossible that any one should get in."

"Any one but me." He sighed and seemed to hesitate just a second. "I created a Blood Gate in one of the caved-in tunnels."

"A Blood Gate? Just like the one You-Know-Who used in the cave by the sea?"

"Almost. I told you no Death Eater will be able to enter the school by the way I use. This Gate will open to my blood only."

"I still do not appreciate having this secret entrance to my castle. Just when did you create it? You were certainly planning ahead, I see."

"I created this Gate in my sixth year at Hogwarts. I can assure you, at that time I was not planning to use it the way I currently do."

"You created a Blood Gate when you were as student? What, sixteen years old? That is hard to believe! These Gates are serious, dark magic – also, having it answer to your blood only, that is highly advanced magic."

"I was rather proud of it at the time. You see, I was sick of having to use the same passages James Potter and his friends used when I wanted to sneak out of the castle."

"Still, that's almost impossible believe!"

Snape shrugged. They stood in uncomfortable silence for maybe half a minute.

"Severus – " Minerva finally said, "thank you for coming here tonight. If you do speak the truth, you risked your life."

"If I do speak the truth," he repeated in a bitter voice. "I will leave now."


	3. Bonding with a Murderer

The school year had started again. Ron and Hermione had returned, Ron protesting loudly. They constantly kept talking about Harry and his plans and did not much concentrate on school work – even Head Girl Hermione Granger was not up to her usual standard, which of course still meant that she got mostly 'Outstandings', with just a few 'Exceeding Expectations' strewn in now and then. What puzzled Minerva most about this was the fact that Hermione did not seem to mind. Well, it would certainly not harm the girl if she learnt to loosen up a bit.

In the meantime, they had tried to confirm all they had learned from Snape – so far, all the information provided by him appeared correct. Madam Rosmerta had been released from the Imperius Curse, feeling rather shaken since this had happened to her for the second time now.

Hagrid and a group of dragon trainers, Charlie Weasley amongst them, had indeed found the dragons hidden away in the mountains. There had been lengthy discussions about this trip beforehand, after all, it might very well have been a trap set up. But everything had gone well, and the dragons had been set free in a way that it looked like they had escaped by themselves. Also, Hagrid had found the giants to be quite angered by the way the Death Eaters had occupied their lands. Hagrid had decided to stay for a while and see if he could possibly contact them again. Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank had taken over all his classes.

However, current state of affairs was that most members of the Order were still unwilling to believe Snape's words altogether. The general belief was that Snape had just fed them some scabs of accurate information in order to regain their trust. Even Remus Lupin still advised caution. There was no proof for Snape's theory a major battle was to come, although even Molly Weasley admitted that it did not seem unlikely.

The Blood Gate Snape had used also did not exactly create a feeling of security. They had found the gate in a blocked part of one of the oldest tunnels under the lake and had also been able to verify that it must indeed have been there for years. It was hard to believe, but Snape might actually have created it as a student – just proving again how he had been intrigued by the Dark Arts even as a teenager.

Minerva refused to seal the gate even though the other Order members strongly advised her to do so.

On the first Hogsmeade Weekend of the school-year, Minerva and Irma Pince walked towards the village when they noticed Ron and Hermione some way ahead of them, holding hands as the went down the path. Having suspected this development for some time, Minerva smiled happily. Albus would have approved. The world needed more love.

Two weeks later Minerva was just teaching her second-years class when the door suddenly burst open. Two first year students rushed in; both of them sobbing hysterically.

"Professor! Please come, quickly – "

"There was this horrible man down at the forest!"

"Professor Grubbly-Plank sent us to fetch you – "

"Calm yourselves, girls, please…"

Minerva did her best to comfort the girls. One of them looked like she was going to throw herself into her arms any second now.

"Why did Professor Grubbly-Plank send you to me?"

"We were down there close to the forest, you know, doing Nibblers in class – and then suddenly there comes this man out of the forest. He looked all beaten up and was bleeding and, oh, it was so scary!"

"He said he'd been in a fight and called for Professor Grubbly-Plank to help him, and she shouted at us to run back to our common room and she told us two we had to get you first."

"Oh, yes, and then she went to that scary man and I don't know if she was fighting him or helping him or what but we started running… This man was so creepy, his eye looked so strange; and now I don't know what to do - " the girl broke off again.

"Alright girls, everyone, listen. The man from the forest asked Professor Grubbly-Plank for help, didn't he?"

The girls nodded.

"So it's unlikely that he is a dark wizard. You will stay in this classroom with my students for now. Do try to remain calm. I will see to whatever is going on; then I will come back to you. Here – " Minerva waved her wand and large amount of chocolate appeared on her desk, "have some, you will feel better then."

Just when she was hurrying down the stairs to the entrance hall, the front doors were pushed open. Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank burst in, with an unconscious Mad-Eye Moody on a stretcher she levitated in front of her.

"Hospital wing!" she panted, "Children okay?"

Two hours later Moody still lay unconscious, but seemed stable so far. His face, hands, and chest were all covered in deep cuts which Madam Pomfrey had covered with some fresh-smelling ointment. Clutched in his right hand he held a silvery thing that looked like a big metal ring decorated with lavish ornaments. He was holding on to it so tightly that they had not been able to remove it from his grip.

Minerva and Poppy Pomfrey were sitting by his bedside when he finally came round. He gave each of them a long, suspicious glance, and then asked gruffly, "That really you? Prove it."

"You are a meddlesome old fool who did something incredibly dangerous," Minerva said smiling.

"Aye, you would say something like that," Mad-Eye retorted, but he seemed content to accept he was in safety now.

"Alastor, what happened?" Minerva asked, regaining her usual stern manner.

He moaned. "Ah… Nasty fight. Real nasty. Almost didn't make it. Kept losing blood, them cuts from that plant thing just wouldn't heal."

He fell back on his cushions, then holding out the thing in his right hand for her to take. Minerva examined it carefully. It was a rather big, old-fashioned silver ornament, shaped like a raven and an eagle touching their beaks.

"Is that – ? "

"Aye. Rowena Ravenclaw's. The ornament from her spear. He'd made it into another Horcrux alright. But it's safe, I destroyed it. T'is just a piece of silver now…"

He passed out again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two days later they held the next meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Moody was restored to full health by that time, only there would be a few more scars on his face from now on.

"Not that it makes much of a difference," Minerva heard Ron muttering before Hermione kicked him hard under the table.

Harry had found some interesting information. As it was likely that the remaining Horcruxes also were things that had belonged to the Hogwarts founders, he had searched for relicts of Godric Gryffindor. From what everyone knew, there were only two left: the Sorting Hat and the Gryffindor Sword. As the Sword could only be pulled out of the Hat by a true Gryffindor, it was highly unlikely that Voldemort himself could ever have held it in his hand. New evidence found by Harry – the memories of a Death Eater now dead – suggested that the Hat itself might indeed be a Horcrux.

"The Hat? Never!" Ron shouted out. "Just to think that we all would have placed a piece of You-Know-Who's soul on our heads then."

Fred and George nodded with fervour, but Hermione looked thoughtful. "I think it might be possible… Just think logically. From what we know he has put horrible security measures around all the other Horcruxes. Any one searching for them would look for things like that. But to have one Horcrux hidden where we'd never look, because it is an everyday object we think we know… that's rather brilliant. Who would suspect a Horcrux in Hogwarts? An object surrounded by no evil whatsoever, who would think of that? And he would have wanted a thing of Gryffindor's."

"But then what do you suggest we do? Destroy the Sorting Hat?"

"Maybe we could test it first, to see if there is some magic hidden within. Something that won't come out unless it's threatened, I think."

"There might be ways to do that," Shacklebolt spoke up. "It's worth a try."

"But what will happen to Hogwarts if the Hat is destroyed? How will the Sorting get done?"

"We can't destroy the Hat, we might even destroy Hogwarts in the process. Or change it at least."

"If it helps bringing about _his_ downfall, I think destroying Hogwarts is a small price," Minerva said. Everyone fell silent at once.

"I know Hogwarts is more than just a school. It's… a tradition, an institution. But there are other schools for magic. Schools can be founded anew. Or they can be changed. The Sorting Hat has been at Hogwarts from its founding days on, but I am sure a new way of sorting the students could be found if necessary."

She looked around and still no one spoke. With a deep sigh, she continued. "You all know what this school means to me. You all know what it meant to Dumbledore. But I believe if we are to stop You-Know-Who, we have to risk destroying those things dear to us."

"I agree," Hermione whispered after a few more seconds of silence.

"Me too," Harry said firmly. "We ought to test the Hat for some Dark Magic within. After all, we could be wrong and might not have to destroy it at all."

"But if we find it to be a Horcrux – " Mr Weasley said gravely. "I think we have to destroy it at once. Minerva is right."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Sorting Hat did indeed prove to be a Horcrux much to everyone's surprise. Skilled auror that he was, Kingsley Shacklebolt had soon detected traces of Dark Magic on it. Destroying the Horcrux then was rather easy – in fact, there were only some minor curses to overcome.

"Probably because he wanted it to be kept in Hogwarts," Hermione guessed. She was beaming with joy because she had helped destroying the Horcrux and Moody had just congratulated her on skilfully blocking one of the curses.

"I mean, if there had been too much Dark Magic covering it, it would have been noticed in Hogwarts. The Dark Arts have no place here."

As for the sorting abilities of the Hat, no one could know if they had been affected at all. Everything concerning the four Hogwarts houses still seemed to be in place and working properly. The four house ghosts volunteered to do a Sorting Ceremony in the future, should the hat remain silent in the following year.

Harry set off again in his quest for the remaining Horcruxes. Hermione and Ron remained at school. Hagrid returned from the giants, reporting that he had befriended some of them now. Many still were in support of Voldemort or would at least not rise openly against him, but at least the Order now had the comfort of knowing that Voldemort could not entirely rely on them. Minerva had the impression that Hagrid was quite glad to be back at Hogwarts.

Madam Rosmerta of The Three Broomsticks also was glad to have her favourite customer back. In those unsafe times, her customers tended to drink more and thus become unruly – the presence of the half-giant then usually calmed the people, especially after one evening on which a slightly inebriated Hagrid had hinted that he still worked against Voldemort even now after Dumbledore's death. After that, Rosmerta seemed to consider Hagrid almost as her personal bodyguard; she was convinced that Minerva had actually ordered Hagrid to safeguard the hostess of The Three Broomsticks.

Mad-Eye Moody, however, was unhappy about this development. He was afraid that Hagrid might, under the influence of too much mulled mead, spill secrets of the Order. Moody asked Minerva for permission to move into a teacher's apartment in Hogwarts so he could keep an eye on Hagrid.

After two quiet and rather uneventful weeks, Snape reported to Minerva again. It was mid-October by now. Again, he conveyed minor information on the plans and whereabouts of certain Death Eaters. From what they could tell, all intelligence he provided was correct.

During the next two months, it became his habit to show up at Hogwarts about once or even twice in a week. Always he arrived deep in the night, and always on different weekdays.

Once, he could provide information on the identity of a Death Eater who had started working with the Daily Planet and who had deliberately fed the newspaper wrong facts. Then he reported a few more people who had been imperiused, some by himself. One murder on a ministry official could be prevented. As for the grand scheme of plans that Voldemort pursued, Snape had not much to tell – but yet his spying activities helped them to save a few lives.

In mid-winter Minerva realised, much to her own irritation, that she had by and by come to look forward to Snape's late-night visits. During his first appearances, she had still felt very anxious, after all, he had to be considered an enemy.

Soon, however, she had adapted to the routine of his reports. He always surrendered his wand the second he entered her rooms, and she always took it. There were times when his weekly reports reminded her of their endless discussion over games of chess and she allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of comfortableness, but she was careful never to show it.

The situation now bore some resemblance to their common past as heads of rivalling houses – he was persona non grata in public, but would come to her and they would have tea together just like in the old times.

She caught herself staying up late on nights when she expected he might show up. Always he acted in his usual, cold manner. They never spoke of anything but his activities for Voldemort, yet she noticed that each of his visits seemed to be a few minutes longer than the previous one. But although she found it harder and harder to remind herself of the fact, she never forgot that this man was a traitor and a murderer. Trusting him entirely would be a very foolish thing to do.

One time in late December, when she walked him back to the tunnel where he left the castle (she'd not let that man run about Hogwarts unguarded!), Snape stated dryly that stalking Hogwarts at night-time hardly was a proper replacement for the frequent walks they had used to take in the Hogwarts grounds. The remark was, of course, accompanied by his common sneer, yet it seemed an unusually personal comment.

Minerva borrowed Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak on the next day, claiming she would like to use it for a visit to The Three Broomsticks – "to see what people gossip about when they think no friend of Dumbledore is around."

The next time Snape showed at up at her office, she threw him the cloak.

"Fancy going for a walk?"

Snape's eyes narrowed as if he suspected some kind of trap. "Wouldn't that be unusual at this time of the night?"

She glanced at her clock on the mantelpiece. "Half past eleven. Yes, unusual maybe, but not entirely out of the question. I like winter nights, everyone knows that."

He put the cloak on and they went outside. Luckily, there was hardly any snow, so that Snape's footprints could not be seen. Close by the greenhouses, there was an awkward moment when they ran into Professor Sprout, who did for a moment think about joining the Headmistress for a late-night stroll, but then decided against it because of the cold.

It was a clear winter night. The ground was frozen solid; even some parts of the lake were covered with ice. They walked in silence for a long time. When they had made it to the other side of the lake, Snape's invisible hand took her elbow.

"Wait," he said in a low voice.

She heard him step up to the lakeshore and take a deep breath. Most likely, he was watching the castle from where he stood – the Astronomy Tower was clearly visible to them.

"Think we're safe here?" he asked after a few moments.

"I think it were better if you didn't take that cloak off. Although I have to admit I don't like it when I don't see where you are," she replied.

"Come closer. Three steps maybe."

She obeyed, taking careful steps, her right hand outstretched. After two steps she felt him take her hand, leading her on.

"There," he said, letting go of her hand quickly. "Now we're standing right next to each other."

She nodded vaguely. "That's better."

"You haven't asked me yet what I have to report."

"It's early still and you're not the only one who misses walking by the lakeside. These days, there is no one at Hogwarts I could argue with properly."

He actually laughed a little – something she hadn't heard in months.

"I'll admit I miss that, too. It's so enjoyable when you get excited about the way I treat your favourite students – well, it _was_ so enjoyable."

"You were quite a horrible teacher."

"How dare you! My NEWT classes were always full of outstanding students." His voice betrayed a smile.

"Those who you liked, you taught well. But a good teacher would also help the students he dislikes."

"Longbottom was a hopeless case. Even you lost your nerve with him once in a while."

"And I deeply regret it."

They stood in silence again for another minute or so, each lost in their own thoughts. Minerva had to suppress a smile when she remembered the Boggart shape Neville Longbottom had produced – she would have loved to see that personally.

Snape tugged at her elbow again. "Let's go on. It does get a bit chilly standing here."

She nodded. They walked on briskly, completing their circle around the lake. Minerva noticed that Snape now kept very close to her side, so that his cloak brushing against hers told her his position at all times. Some confused second thoughts in the back of her mind noticed that she did not mind the physical contact at all.

"So do tell me what you have to report, Severus," she said in an effort to straighten out her thoughts.

"Not much, I am afraid. I suspect there is another Death Eater spy in the Ministry, but I cannot tell you much more. He is a protégé of Lucius Malfoy."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

About one hour later, Minerva sat in her favourite armchair before the fireplace. Snape had left a few minutes earlier. He had again given her some information that she would have to evaluate yet for its usefulness. She absent-mindedly played with the hem of the Invisibility Cloak which hung over the chair's armrest. Watching the fire-salamanders, her mind dwelled on one subject only: she had enjoyed this evening walk far too much. The comfortable silence that they had kept was evident proof that she did, in her heart, trust Snape again.

What disturbed her even more was the way she had enjoyed being touched by Snape. Truly he had only touched her arm, and she had felt his cloak occasionally brush against hers. Considering the circumstances there was nothing extraordinary about this. It appeared best not to think about the matter too much. She decided that she was simply overly tired, overworked, and still heart-sore from the loss of her best friend. Bonding with the murderer certainly was not a good idea – even if he had been a friend once, a friend she missed dearly.

It took more than a week before Snape returned to Hogwarts. As usual, he had some scraps of information, but not much seemed to have happened. He had shown up unusually early, it was hardly eleven o'clock – quite risky, really, although the students were supposed to be in bed by this time.

She still had the cloak, and he suggested they use it for another night-time stroll. There wasn't much talk, there was no more physical contact than necessary - and really there was absolutely no reason at all for taking this walk.

Could it be possible, Minerva asked herself, that he did indeed miss this activity as much as she did? Her rational thoughts tried to convince her that this was of course only wishful thinking on her part, and that he did most likely just enjoy being invisible for a while. After all, he was a wanted criminal who had to hide at all times.

When Snape came to see her the next time after that and she had given the cloak back to Moody, she did for just one moment believe he was disappointed.

They never mentioned the subject again. His reports to her continued the way they had before the episode – they never spoke of personal matters again, and they never touched each other.

It bothered Minerva that she spent so much time thinking about the issue. Their friendship had always been a strange one, based on rivalling and respect instead of closeness.

Why did she wish for more intimacy now, when she could still not bring herself to openly trust him again? Thinking about Snape had become somewhat of an unhealthy obsession. It troubled her when she noticed how her heart missed a beat every time he entered her rooms, and how she started to seriously worry about him when he did not show up for several days.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

One night in late January, Minerva suddenly woke up with a start. She had the distinct feeling there was someone in her bedroom.

"It's me," Snape whispered. "I apologise I had to wake you."

He turned on his heel and swept into her living room. Through the half open door, she saw him light the fire and warm his hands over it. He did not look at her.

Quickly she dressed in her morning gown and pulled her hair back into a makeshift knot; then she followed him into the next room. His wand lay openly on one of her armchairs, far away from him. Her clock showed it was about half past four in the morning.

"Tea?" she asked, suppressing a yawn.

He shook his head. There was a faint smile on his lips. "You seem to trust me a little more nowadays."

"I figured that if you were here to harm me, you would already have done so."

"Why didn't you seal my gate after I told you about it?"

She shrugged, rather preferring not to think about why she hadn't done so.

"I have the feeling you might have gotten in anyway."

"Possibly. I am not sure. Hogwarts is well-protected."

"I do hope it is protected better than my bedroom."

Another faint smile. "Like I said, I apologise for entering a lady's bedroom without an invitation."

"You do seem in a lighter mood tonight."

"I have good news for you."

"You do?"

"Yes. I know what the remaining Horcruxes are and where to find them."

"That is good news, indeed!"

Snape counted them on his fingers. "One – the Diary Potter destroyed.

Two – Gaunt's ring, destroyed by Dumbledore.

Three – Rowena Ravenclaw's spear ornament. It may be found in a cave in the mountains nearby. I believe the Dark Lord stole it from Hogwarts at some time and then hid it there. It will not be heavily protected as he was in much of a hurry then and I believe he has never returned there.

Four – Salazar Slytherin's locket. The one Dumbledore took from the seaside cave must have been a fake, for by pure coincidence I found the real one. It is destroyed already.

Five – Helga Hufflepuff's cup. This one is hidden in Merope Gaunt's grave and it is the one he protected best of all. Retrieving it will be very dangerous.

And number six might surprise you somewhat – it is the Sorting Hat."

"How did you find out about these?" Minerva asked slowly.

"Legilimency. I had to be very careful, that is why it took me so long."

"You dared enter _his_ mind?"

"I'm not saying it was easy. As for the Ravenclaw one, I found out from Bellatrix Lestrange. She helped him hide it."

Minerva closely surveyed Snape for a long time.

He still stood by the fireside, waiting for her to reply. She remembered all those times in the past years when she'd seen him standing by her fire, often with a mug of tea or coffee in his hand. They had played chess or just shared some warm drink after one of their long walks. They had always, always, always argued about something. She had never seen him happy, but she had had the impression that he enjoyed their quarrels immensely.

The man standing in front of her now was different and yet the same. The lines in his face had deepened. He appeared older, and so tired - like a man haunted by the things he had seen and done.

"Severus…" Minerva said slowly, "I think owe you an apology. Please forgive me that I didn't trust you any more."

He took in a sharp breath and stared at her, obviously surprised.

"You believe me? You do not think me a traitor to Dumbledore any more?"

"Not any more. I am sorry that I did. I am sorry that it took me more than half a year to believe you."

He turned around and stared into the flames. Wiping his forehead – or was it his eyes? – with his right hand, he answered in a strained voice.

"I murdered your best friend. My best friend."

"You had no choice."

"Does that make it any better?" He turned back to face her once more. "It was a cold-blooded murder. Just as you've said before, I should rather have given up my own life."

"Then both of you would be dead now. I am rather glad you are still alive."

"Don't you hate me for it? – I hate myself for what I have done."

"No, Severus. I do not hate you. I think you showed bravery beyond anything I have seen in my life."

With a sound as if he was choking, Snape swept over to the window where he stood staring outside for a long time. His shoulders were shaking somewhat, but he did not move otherwise.

Minerva quietly settled into one of her fireside chairs, watching him from behind. Finally his breathing slowed to a normal rate again.

"Severus?" she softly asked after a few minutes had passed. He turned around slowly.

"Do sit down with me. Let us discuss what you told me about the Horcruxes."

Apparently relieved to change the subject, he sat down in the other armchair.

"Now, Severus, what do you know about the recent proceedings within the Order of the Phoenix?"

"I assume you are the new Head of the Order."

She nodded.

"I also assume you will have allowed some new members – Potter and his friends, Weasley and the Granger girl."

"Yes," she nodded again. "And the Weasley twins."

"Then I presume you will have searched for the Horcruxes, too. And I believe the Dragons did not break free on their own, although that is what the Dark Lord thinks. Otherwise, I know nothing."

"Then it is time I told you some things."

"Shouldn't you discuss this with the other members first?"

"They will not agree with me."

"Most likely." A bitter smile crept over his face.

"At least, not all of them will agree. Young Mr Potter will never trust you, I am afraid. He holds you responsible for the death of his parents – and you cannot claim you have ever been nice to him."

"I saved his life twice. Not that he deserved it."

"Twice?"

"At the Quidditch game in his first year, when Quirrill tried to knock him off his broom. And when Draco and I fled the castle. Amycus was torturing him, but Alectro was aiming to kill him. By the way, I then tried to tell him once more that he ought to learn Occlumency – I assume he has not taken to my advice?"

"Moody teaches him."

"Quite a surprise, but I am glad to hear it."

"As for the rest of the Order – there is one who might be convinced to trust you once more. Two, maybe."

"Another surprise."

"Remus was inclined to think you might be speaking the truth - from the beginning on, I might add."

"I never much cared for him, but I suppose he is a good man after all. Who is the other one?"

"Hermione Granger."

"The Granger girl?"

"Ron Weasley dislikes you because Harry hates you. Miss Granger dislikes you, too, but she does not rely on another person's judgment. She judges you by your actions, so she might change her mind about you."

"So I might be able to convince a werewolf and a teenage girl. How impressive," he snorted.

"This is exactly the kind of behaviour that makes people dislike you in the first place. How are they to trust you, then?"

He actually laughed now. "You know, you are not my teacher any more."

"I still think you sometimes need a stern talking to."

"Ah, the one thing that always set you apart from the others. You never were afraid of me."

She smiled. "Let's get back to the Order. I still haven't told you half of it."

"Don't tell me."

"Why not?"

"It's like you said. They will never trust me."

"I will tell them what you told me about the Horcruxes. A lot of it we knew already, that will make it easier for them to believe the rest."

"You knew about the Sorting Hat, right?"

"Yes, and we have taken care of that already. How did you know I knew?"

"I expected you to be shocked when I mentioned it, but you showed no signs of surprise."

Seeing the critical look on her face, he quickly added, "I didn't legilimens you. After years of watching you, I can read your face."

She relaxed a little. "'Watching me' doesn't sound exactly nice, either, but it's better than having someone in my mind without noticing."

"I think you would notice if I attempted to legilimens you."

"I don't think so. You just told me you entered You-Know-Who's mind without being discovered."

"True." He looked into her eyes. "But I swear I wouldn't do it to you."

"What about the locket?" she went on, somewhat eager to leave that other topic. "You said it's destroyed already? And where did you find it?"

"Whatever Dumbledore retrieved from the seaside cave, it was not the real Horcrux. I saw what the real one looked like in the Dark Lord's mind and was very surprised to find it in Hogsmeade.

On my last visit there, I hid in the attic of the Hog's Head. There are boxes with stolen goods – many of them bearing the Black crest, that's why I noticed and examined them. I think they come from Grimmauld Place. Just by coincidence I discovered that very locket in one of the boxes. I am sure it is Slytherin's. I am also sure it is not a Horcrux any more."

He got up and looked out of the window once more.

"I think I should leave now. I have to get out of the castle without being seen."

Minerva nodded and stood up, too. She felt very tired all of a sudden.

"Goodbye, Minerva." He went to the door.

"Goodbye, Severus. I shall look forward to your next visit."

"It shall be my pleasure," he said with a little smirk, but then his face grew serious again. Carefully he took her right hand, raising it up to his lips. He kissed it respectfully, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Thank you for believing me."


	4. Going Too Far

Minerva sent messages to the other members of the Order only minutes later. Most of them were able to attend a meeting on the evening of that day.

She told them about what had happened that morning, or at least most of it.

Snape had informed her about all of the Horcruxes. Obviously he had not known what they had found out and achieved in the meantime. As they already knew part of the newly provided information to be correct, it seemed quite likely that the rest was true as well.

They had speculated for quite some time that the mysterious R.A.B. who had stolen the cave Horcrux could easily have been Regulus Black, Sirius's brother. If this was true, he could have taken the real locket home with him, which meant it should have been in the very place where they were holding their meeting - Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"Should have been," Minerva insisted sternly. "Only it seems that someone may have stolen goods from Black Manor here. Antique silverware usually fetches good prices."

Her eyes pierced Mundungus Fletcher, who finally admitted "having borrowed one or two pieces", "of course intending to return them."

Hermione, Ron, and Harry actually remembered having seen Mundungus selling items from Grimmauld Place to the barman of the Hog's Head.

"What irony," Lupin said cynically. "Just to think that the very thing Dumbledore was looking for might be found in the possession of his brother."

"His brother?" Ron asked, dumbfounded. Harry and Hermione looked questioningly at each other.

"Yes, of course," Tonks looked at them. "Didn't you know that Aberforth from the Hog's Head is Aberforth Dumbledore?"

It was quickly agreed that Mundungus – accompanied by Lupin – was to reclaim the stolen goods from Aberforth. They would soon find out whether the mysterious locket indeed was Slazar Slytherin's, and whether it had been a Horcrux.

"Which then leaves only one to go," Lupin said. "If the information provided by Severus is correct, there only is one more Horcrux to destroy. And we know where to find it."

"Not exactly. Where is Merope Gaunt's grave?"

"That can easily be found out. It must be in London somewhere, most likely somewhere close to Riddle's orphanage. Some place where poor people were buried. Maybe some anonymous mass grave or crypt."

"We will find out," Minerva stated confidently.

"But we can't go there!" Molly Weasley burst out. "This has to be a trap!"

"It could be. It doesn't have to be," Arthur Weasley tried to calm her.

"I believe it's a trap." Harry's voice was cold. "This is exactly what Snape would do. Get us to trust him again, feed us on true facts until we eagerly do what he bids us to do. And now that we're willing to go, he'll set up a trap for us there."

"You're prejudiced," Hermione held against him.

"Well, of course I am!" Harry stormed back. "Think of what he has done! How can you even consider trusting that man?"

"I'm just trying to see this from every angle possible." Hermione sounded hurt. Harry stared at her furiously. Ron looked away, trying to stay out of the argument.

"Do go on, Hermione," Lupin said quietly. "Tell us what you think."

"Well – " Hermione considered things for a moment. "It's again all down to the question 'Can we believe him?' We don't have any proof he is speaking the truth. All we have is a story that makes some sense, although it _seems_ unlikely. And we do have the fact that Snape did help us a little over the last few months."

"But – " George tried to interrupt, but Hermione ignored him.

"Apart from that, we have no reason to trust Snape. We know him to be a murderer. And we know him to be an unfriendly, selfish, arrogant man, who has always been drawn to the Dark Arts. Not a person likely to be working for the Order. And that's just what got me thinking."

"What do you mean?" Minerva eyed her critically.

"Maybe what I think is totally stupid but – you know, if he actually was a Death Eater just trying to fool us again, don't you think he'd be doing it in a very strange way? I imagine someone trying to deceive us would have appealed to all of us. He would have produced some piece of fake 'proof' of his innocence. Instead he only came to see you – of all of us, you were closest to Dumbledore."

Hermione blushed a little, but she went on. "You are the person most unlikely to forgive Snape – well, except for Harry maybe. And then… okay, if we assume he's giving us all the information on five Horcruxes just to create a trap at number six – if that's the plan – I am sure he could not do this without V-Voldemort knowing. But to assume that Voldemort is willing to give up five pieces of his soul, just to create a set-up? That simply doesn't make sense."

There were a few seconds of quiet thinking. Hermione's words seemed to ring through the room.

"Hate to admit it, but that is a good point," George finally said.

"So what, do we suddenly welcome the chap back?" Moody bellowed. "Invite him for tea, maybe, just tell him that killing people is a no-no and that he shouldn't do it again? And then all's forgiven and forgotten? I don't think so!"

"Me neither," Harry spoke up again. "Snape is responsible for the deaths of my parents. Snape murdered Dumbledore. These things cannot be forgiven."

"So you say we'll ignore this information about the last Horcrux. And what if it's true?"

"But how can you trust him? How can you forgive him?" Harry whispered. "He is a murderer…" For a moment, there were tears in Harry's eyes. He blinked them away furiously.

Minerva sighed and watched him with a kind expression on her face. After all, Harry and his friends were still so young – too young to stand the constant pressure. She knew that Harry, the orphan, had considered Dumbledore as a kind of foster grandfather, possibly as the only family he had apart from Sirus. And now both of them now were dead, just like Harry's original family.

"Harry…" Minerva tried to speak as sympathetically as possible. "I know this is so hard for you because you actually saw it happen. And I don't think we shall ever find proof if Severus's version of events is true – all we can say for sure is that it is a possible explanation."

"But don't you miss Dumbledore?" Harry was now crying openly. "Even if it's true, even if Dumbledore told Snape to do it – how can you forgive him that he actually did it? He needn't have done it. I thought you loved Dumbledore, how can you prefer Snape alive?"

"Harry -" Lupin gently took Harry by his shoulders. "Don't say that. We all miss him. Don't accuse Minerva of being cold-hearted."

"I just don't get it!" Harry wailed.

Molly Weasley pushed Lupin aside and took Harry into her arms motherly. She was crying herself.

"Harry…" Hermione whispered, also choking on tears. "What if Dumbledore died just the way he would have wanted to die – saving two lives with his own death."

"But I saw it happen! Snape looked so cold, so hateful…"

"Wouldn't you hate me if I made you kill me?" Hermione sobbed. Ron put his arm around her shoulders and tried to comfort her.

"Let's leave them alone for a moment." Shacklebolt quietly got up.

The others followed him outside, leaving Mrs Weasley and the three kids in the kitchen where they all had been sitting together.

Minerva walked to the end of the hallway and looked out of the window next to the entrance door. Outside, it was snowing heavily.

"How do you feel?" Arthur Weasley leaned against the windowsill next to her.

"Alone."

"Don't be angry with Harry. He's too young."

"I know. All of them are. I wish we could have kept them out of it."

"So do I. But I don't see how we could have done that."

"Me neither. And I do understand Harry. He's lost his parents, his godfather, and now Albus - again, he's lost a father figure." They stood in silence for another minute or two, until Molly called them back into the main room.

"I am sorry, Professor." Harry looked at his Headmistress.

His eyes were red, but he looked like he meant it. Ron and Hermione sat cuddled together, quietly watching the scene.

"That's quite alright, Harry," Minerva responded. "This is a difficult time for all of us."

"I just meant – I am sorry I said you don't miss Dumbledore. I know you must miss him."

Minerva nodded sadly. "I do. Very much so. He was my best friend."

A long silence followed her words. Finally, Molly Weasley suggested breaking the meeting off. The discussion would lead to no results that night.

"We could meet again the next weekend. Everybody just try to calm down and think it over. We will then decide what to do about Merope Gaunt's grave and the Horcrux."

"Good idea, Mum," Bill agreed. "Minerva, if I may ask, have you for yourself decided whether to follow that lead or to ignore it? It might help some of us with our decisions."

"I have made up my mind, Bill," Minerva quietly said. "But I do not wish to tell you now. In the past, we trusted Severus because we knew what our leader thought of him. I have made up my mind, but I will not influence you."

"Smart of you," Moody said. "Let them figure out on their own that Snape's not to be trusted, it'll make things so much easier for you as our leader."

"Goodnight, Alastor," Minerva replied, getting up from the table. She was glad to notice that her voice did not betray any emotion at all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next Friday, Ron and Hermione left for Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place some time mid-afternoon. The meeting was scheduled for late after dinner, but they were going early to meet Harry and Ron's brothers.

Settling themselves around the table in the large kitchen, they played some games of Exploding Snap and chatted like they had used to in the Gryffindor common room. Mrs Weasley was in the meantime preparing dinner, with Tonks 'helping' her best as she could.

Mr Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt both returned from work early and settled down by the window, quietly smoking their pipes. With everyone deliberately avoiding the topic they were to discuss later, it turned out to be a quiet, surprisingly pleasant late-afternoon.

Suddenly, there was a loud, cracking noise. Tonks dropped several plates, and everyone jumped from their chairs in alarm. In a mass of swirling robes, two persons had apparated right there in the kitchen. Molly Weasley screamed. Most of the men drew their wands and were just about to attack the intruders when they realised who they were - Snape and McGonagall.

Snape was holding Minerva, who seemed too weak to stand without support. Her robes were stained with dirt and her hat was missing. A look of terror was on her deadly white face. Her eyes seemed unfocused before she slowly closed them and started to collapse in Snape's arms. Snape had his wand drawn, but lowered it after a quick glance at the people around them. He did not seem to care who or what else was in the kitchen room. Throwing his wand from him, he now used both arms to force Minerva into an upright position. For a split second, his eyes came to rest on Molly Weasley, who was standing closest to them.

"Cupboard over there. Used to keep potion supplies there. Powdered Bezoar – quick!" he commanded.

Molly stood transfixed, as did everybody else.

"NOW!" Snape yelled at her, while Minerva made a faint moaning noise in his arms. Her eyelids fluttered, but she seemed totally unconscious of what was going on around her. Snape shook her violently until she opened her eyes again. With horror Harry realised that she seemed to be gasping for air. The look of panic in her face had, if possible, grown even stronger.

After another horrible second of silence, Hermione darted to the cupboard and started rummaging in it. Minerva once more closed her eyes and swayed dangerously. Her body grew limp again. Snape jerked her back up; then slapped her hard in the face with one hand. His other arm supported her back, his hand holding her head by the hair.

"Open your eyes!" he whispered urgently. His voice was commanding, but sounded strangely shaken.

"Open your eyes, I said!" He grew louder, hitting her face again. She moaned once more, vaguely opening her eyes.

"That's good," he went on, completely ignoring what was happening around him. "Now look at me. Look into my eyes!"

Panic-stricken, Minerva looked at him and did for the first time appear to realise what was going on. She still seemed unable to breathe and was shaking badly by now. Her lips were turning blue. Snape violently forced her to keep standing, all the time speaking to her only.

"Don't you dare close your eyes again. Stay focused. Oh no – don't you _dare_ look away." Cruelly, he grabbed her lolling head and forced her to look at him again.

"Breathe! Look at me! Breathe, I said. I will not loose you. Don't you dare die here! I - will – not - loose – you."

In all his years at Hogwarts, Harry had never heard Snape speaking in such an urgent and commanding way. He realised that Snape was willing the Headmistress to live, simply not allowing her to give up the fight for her life. But Harry also heard a strange, pleading undertone in that voice. Snape was afraid, deadly afraid.

Hermione rushed to Snape's side, carrying a small glass phial which contained a yellow-brownish powder.

"Open it," Snape instructed her, not taking his eyes of Minerva's face. He held out his right hand.

"Put some in my hand." His voice was definitely shaking by now.

Hurriedly, Hermione spilled most of the powder onto his open palm. Holding Minerva with his left arm only, he put his right hand with the powder over her nose and mouth, forcing her head far back. By now she shook so violently that he had trouble holding her, and then suddenly her body grew limp again.

"Breathe!" he commanded. "Breathe, I said. Breathe the damn powder!"

It looked as if he was suffocating her with his hand. Unable to hold her any longer, he lowered her onto her back, yet all the time covering her face with his right hand, frantically shouting at her to start breathing again.

For some endless seconds, nothing happened. Time seemed to have slowed down.

Snape kneeled on the kitchen floor, Minerva lying lifeless on his left arm, his right hand still clutched to her face. Then suddenly, her body arched. With an awful choking noise, she started breathing again. Snape let go of her face, albeit still cradling her head with his left hand. He motioned for Hermione again.

"Some more in her mouth," he whispered barely audible.

His face was ashen as he watched Hermione apply the powder. Minerva's face was still pale, but her lips were no longer blue. Slowly, she opened her eyes. This time, she seemed to be able to focus on the people staring down at her.

Gently, Snape let go of her head. He stood up and backed a few steps away, swaying slightly. His face was covered in cold sweat. Harry noticed how Snape supported himself against the kitchen table, his whole body trembling. Molly and Tonks had rushed to Hermione's side, momentarily blocking Minerva from Harry's view.

"That was a close shave, if I ever saw one," Moody barked into the eerie silence.

He eyed Snape critically, clearly trying to figure out what had happened. Shacklebolt and Mr Weasley also seemed not quite certain what to make of the situation.

Bill, on the other hand, got up and fetched a glass of firewhiskey, which he pushed into Snape's trembling hand. He also picked up Snape's wand and handed it back to him.

"Well done," he said quietly.

Snape nodded, still staring at Minerva on the floor. He drained the glass in one motion before he answered in a rather strained voice.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Want another one?" Bill had helped himself to a drink, too.

Snape shook his head. "I have to leave. Once I can be sure she'll be alright."

"You can't leave now," Moody stated flatly. "I think you owe us an explanation."

"You saw what I did."

"What kind of poison was it?"

"I don't know. Some gas or fumes."

"Where did you two come from?"

Snape sighed. "Merope Gaunt's grave."

"She went there with you?" Mr Weasley asked, astonished. "We were going to discuss today if we could risk going there."

"It's been almost a week since I told the Headmistress about the location of the Horcrux," Snape said coldly. "Since you are still discussing the matter, I assume you thought I had set up a trap?"

"Well, have you?" Moody cut in.

"Why bother asking? If I say no, you're not going to believe it anyway," Snape snarled.

"Aye," Moody growled back. "That is quite possible, that is."

They stared at each other in cold fury. During the argument, Snape had transformed into his usual, cold self once more. There was no trace left of the man who had just desperately fought to save a life.

"Unlike Alastor here," Bill said slowly, "I have not yet decided what to think of the incident. Severus, I would appreciate if you told us."

Snape continued to look at Moody for a few more moments, his expression unreadable. Then he did turn towards Bill Weasley.

"We did not go there together. It was merely luck that I found her.

As I thought one of you or I would try to retrieve the Horcrux soon, I just wanted to find out as much as possible about the place – I think I spent the better part of the last few days there.

When I arrived there today, I found the crypt filled with some fumes unknown to me and Minerva half-dead on the ground. I took her here because I remembered I had some potion ingredients stored here. There was no time to apparate outside first; and I did not expect to disturb anyone here. I thought you would have stopped frequenting Grimmauld Place now that I am regarded a traitor."

Snape set his glass down on the table and turned back to Minerva. She had lost consciousness again, but she breathed evenly and some colour had returned to her cheeks and lips. Molly Weasley had apparently for the moment forgotten to distrust Snape, because she motioned for him to come closer once more.

"What do you think?" she asked anxiously.

Snape checked Minerva's pulse and then muttered some diagnostic spell while he held his hand over her forehead.

"She'll live, I think," he finally decided. Harry had the distinct impression that Snape was doing his best to keep any trace of emotion out of his voice.

"Keep her in bed, propped up with pillows so she can breathe more easily. Give her strengthening potions immediately when she wakes up. There must be some in the cupboard. Some hot chocolate, too. Call Poppy Pomfrey if necessary; she ought to be able to deal with this."

"And what about you, Snape?" Shacklebolt cut in. "Are we to let you go just like this?"

Snape stood up again. After one last look at Minerva, he sneered at Shacklebolt in his familiar manner.

"If you want me to stay here, that will eventually blow my cover. I have to return to the Dark Lord tonight."

"Will you come back to us?" Hermione asked quietly.

Snape shrugged. "I shall report to Minerva again as soon as I can manage. I suppose if I do not find her at Hogwarts, she will be here."

Before anyone could answer him, there was a soft knock on the front door.

"Lupin!" Moody shouted, checking the door with his magical eye.

Harry went to the front door and opened it, somewhat glad to escape the awkward situation in the kitchen. He had some inkling that Snape was embarrassed that they had witnessed him saving a life.

Suddenly he found it harder to believe that Snape might just have tried to lure them into a trap. Maybe Hermione was right, maybe Snape wasn't a traitor after all. And there was that argument between Dumbledore and Snape that Hagrid had told them about… it could also have been about Dumbledore ordering Snape to kill him, although there was not proof for that version of things. But it was a piece that fitted well into the puzzle of Snape's story.

As Lupin came into the hallway, Snape took the chance to sweep through the open door without saying another word. Once outside, he immediately disapparated.

"Was that Severus?" Lupin exclaimed.

"It was." Tonks came to greet him, kissing him fondly. "We have quite a story to tell you."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Minerva remained unconscious until about four o'clock Saturday morning, when she woke up in a bed in one of the Grimmauld Place bedrooms. Her first thought was that mercifully she was able to breathe again. Apart from that, she felt awful – her chest hurt with every breath, her body ached all over, and her left cheekbone radiated a grim pain as if it was broken.

Molly Weasley was sitting by her bedside. Tonks and Hermione were sleeping on mattresses before the fireplace – apparently the three women had taken turns with their vigil. Molly smiled, relief openly showing on her face.

"How do you feel, dear?"

"Dreadful," Minerva admitted, smiling inwardly. Not even the nurses at St. Mungo's had called her 'dear'.

"We were all so worried about you."

Molly immediately started fussing about, tucking the blankets tighter around Minerva.

"What happened to you? Do you remember anything?"

"I wanted to go and get the Horcrux," Minerva slowly recalled. "I thought I did get it. Then… I smelled something. There were these yellow fumes. I did a Bubble Head Charm but something prevented it. It was as if all my magic did not work any more."

"Do you know how you got here?"

"Not really. This is Grimmauld Place, I think?" When Molly nodded, she went on, "I have never seen the bedrooms here. – I think I remember Severus, shouting at me. I couldn't breathe any more. Something hit me in the face."

Slowly, she touched her left cheek, which was undeniably heavily bruised.

"That was him," Molly said, pondering how to go on. "I still don't know what to think of the man, but I believe he saved your life tonight. All of a sudden he apparated here, right in the kitchen, holding you. And he kept slapping your face so you wouldn't faint entirely. Really, he was quite cruel to you."

"I think he had to be," Hermione interrupted, yawning at the same time.

"Dear, go back to sleep." Molly turned to Hermione. "You've hardly slept half an hour so far."

Hermione shrugged, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders. "How are you, Professor?" she addressed Minerva.

"Alright, I think."

"You are far from being alright!" Molly insisted. "I'm glad you woke up, but I really think you need some days rest. And we should get a proper healer to see to you as soon as possible."

"Maybe." Minerva did indeed feel too weak to argue.

"I'll get you some chocolate." Molly got up and stretched. "And the potions."

Minerva closed her eyes again for a moment while Hermione got up from her mattress and came to sit on the bedside chair.

"I think Snape spoke the truth," she said quietly. "We should trust him again."

"You do think so?"

"Mmm. Yes. You didn't see him. I mean, I have never seen Professor Snape like that. You know, he was so desperately afraid you'd die. And then he was really angry because we had seen him worried."

Minerva laughed softly, which she regretted immediately because of the pain it caused.

"He was angry because you had seen him worried? I don't think he said that."

"No. That's just what I think. You know, he was so emotional and then all of a sudden he looked round and saw us all staring at him and he started disputing with Moody right away. It was rather typical."

"You're a good observer, Hermione."

"Thanks." Hermione shrugged again. "Oh, and there's some good news - you _were_ successful in retrieving the last Horcrux."

"Yes?" Minerva sat up excitedly.

"Yes," Hermione smiled. "We found this golden cup in the pocket of your robes. Harry said it looks just like the Hufflepuff Cup he saw in that memory Dumbledore showed him."

"Thank Merlin." Minerva sank back into her pillows.

"Moody and Mr Shacklebolt started examining it right away. They say it's a Horcrux for sure."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day, Minerva slept until eleven o'clock. She had drunk her potion and taken her chocolate after Molly had come back from the kitchen and then dropped off into a dreamless sleep again. Apparently, the others had kept awake to watch over her.

After a brief argument with George Weasley, who was the one sitting by her bed when she woke up (and who claimed that his mother had ordered him not to allow her out of bed under any conditions), Minerva shooed the boy out of the room and put on her torn robes. There was not much that could be done about the damage, but someone had been nice enough to clean them.

She went down into the kitchen where she found most of the others examining the Horcrux on the big kitchen table, and Molly Weasley scolding her son for "allowing the patient out of bed."

"Molly, do give George a break," she smiled. "I used all my teacher authority to get him out of the room."

"I never much had the impression that teacher authority was something that would impress George," Arthur Weasley said sarcastically, but he smiled broadly. "It is good to see you up and about again."

"Thank you, Arthur," Minerva replied, and sat down as quickly as possible.

She did feel very shaky still, but would not have admitted it for anything in the world. Moody caught her eye and grinned, twisting his scarred face into a rather horrible grimace. After his experience with the Ravenclaw Horcrux, most likely he knew what she felt like. He set down a cup of strong tea in front of Minerva.

"If you insist on being alright, we have a lot of work to do. We need to destroy this thing. And we need to hear what exactly happened last night. That life-saver of your's could not be talked into giving a full account."

"I wonder whether we will ever find out if we can truly trust him," Ron Weasley added. "At the moment, we're at our wit's ends."

The discussion went on for the rest of the weekend, with no apparent results. They did also destroy the Horcrux during these days, which proved to be one of the hardest and most complex magic tasks they had had to do in their lives – clearly, Lord Voldemort had invested much more effort into this Horcrux than into his other ones.

Ironically, all this hard work was overshadowed in their minds by the constant discussion of Snape's loyalty, which just was repeating the same arguments over and over again. In the end, Minerva positively fled the room when someone just mentioned his name. It seemed that Lupin, Bill Weasley and Hermione had decided to trust Snape, Moody was all against it, and the rest were undecided. Minerva did consider it as a huge progress that young Harry did not decidedly speak up against Snape any more.

By Monday morning, everyone returned to their homes again.

Minerva did take up teaching, but had to admit she still felt rather worn out. After all, it was a miracle that she was alive. She retreated into her private rooms immediately after classes and spent much time resting. Constantly she wondered when she would see Snape again, if ever. By saving her he had risked his life. What if the Death Eaters had found out what he had done? Was he still alive?

Also there was this one thought that never left her mind, one thing that Hermione had said and that she could not stop reflecting.

Hermione had claimed Snape had been worried for her life, not just a little concerned, but actually seriously afraid she would die. Surely this meant nothing, after all, she was the only person who openly trusted Snape at the moment. He needed her.

Also, Minerva reasoned, Hermione must have been frightened herself and could in all that excitement easily have misjudged what was going on around her.

Yet, the thought remained. Had Snape actually cared?

Naturally he must have cared a little; after all they had been friends for years. But could he have cared a little more? Of course not. They were friends, and that was it. Anything else was just wishful thinking based on a teenager's impression of the scene.

Minerva found she could not stop pondering the subject. Deeply ashamed, she finally had to admit to herself that she felt way more than just friendship for Snape – over the past few months, they had bonded so closely that she had seriously fallen in love with this man who was only half her age.


	5. Fighting Passion

They held another meeting the following Friday night. Now that all of the Horcruxes were destroyed, they would have to find a way to get to Voldemort in person – also, they would have to decide what Harry had to do. Still no one felt certain about how to interpret the prophecy – would Harry actually have to become a murderer in order to defeat Voldemort? And there still was the question if the prophecy did indeed apply to Harry, as Dumbledore had thought, or if it had meant Neville, or perhaps even both of the boys.

Unfortunately the meeting proved to be very unsuccessful; basically all they could agree on was that they did not know how to proceed. Much to Minerva's relief, somehow they had silently agreed not to talk about Snape at all, so it turned out to be a discussion without much quarrelling - which was nice for a change.

At about midnight, they broke the official part of the meeting off and started chatting about several everyday topics. Some of them were planning to stay the night in Grimmauld Place and Molly Weasley handed out hot chocolate as a nightcap. Minerva intended to go back home to Hogwarts, but for the moment she sat at the kitchen table with the Weasley twins, discussing their business. She had never much approved of the way they had quit their school career (although she had had to admit that the way they had actually left Hogwarts had been most entertaining). On the other hand, the inventions Fred and George had made for their joke shop did impress her quite a bit. Clearly, these two had a talent for creative magic.

Just when Fred was explaining the finer details of another idea for 15-minute-daydreams they had in development (based on instant potions added to lemon tea - "Dream-away-Tea"), there was a faint knock on the front door.

"Snape!" Moody growled.

He went to open the door nevertheless.

Snape barely nodded to him and strode into the kitchen. He took one look at the people still assembled there, mumbling something which might pass for greetings. Then he focused on Minerva.

"You!" he said, pointing to her. "I need to talk to you. Now. In private."

His voice was callous; clearly he was in a foul mood and thought himself above bothering with politeness right now.

"Severus," she smiled, getting up from her seat. "I so wanted to talk to you. I have to thank you."

"I am not here for pleasantries," he replied curtly. The tone of his voice grew colder.

Not at all happy with the way he behaved, Minerva raised her left eyebrow critically. She was glad to see him and did feel a genuine need to express her gratefulness, yet she was certainly not going to put up with that kind of acting for long.

"Then what is it?" she asked, on her guard now. "You know you can speak freely here."

"I want to have a word with you. Now. Alone." Snape repeated impatiently.

He did not look at anyone but Minerva. There was something threatening about his whole appearance. Minerva was reminded of those few times when she had seen Snape furious to the brink of losing his self-control.

"Well, if you insist –" she answered coldly.

Snape continued to stare at her. "The rest of you – get out!" he hissed.

"Now look, Snape, who do you think you are, ordering us about and all?" Moody growled, drawing his wand.

"Get – out!" Snape repeated, not looking at him.

"It's alright, Alastor," Minerva replied. "I wanted to talk to Severus anyway. Do please leave us alone for a moment – and put that wand away, really."

Lupin got up first, quietly taking Tonks's hand and pulling her with him.

Slowly, one after the other they filed out of the room. Moody grumbled something under his breath that sounded like "will watch you, don't try anything funny", but was ignored by Snape and Minerva alike. They stood as if to begin a duel, glazing at each other, none breaking the eye contact.

Charlie was the last one to leave the room and he closed the door behind him.

"Good," Snape whispered. He muttered some spells at the door; then turned to Minerva again.

"The door is locked and no one can hear us. I'd like some privacy here."

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" Minerva's voice was ice. "How dare you behave like that!"

"You owe me an explanation."

"What I owe you is thanks for saving my life. I am very grateful you did this for me – although the way you act right now almost makes me forget it."

"I have not come here for gratefulness."

"Then what do you want? It had better be something important if you want to excuse your grand entrance."

She sat down again while Snape took to pacing up and down in the big kitchen room.

"You – foolish woman!" He grew louder with each word. "You owe me an explanation why you did this."

"Why I did do what, exactly?"

"Going after that Horcrux! Risking your life over something that stupid!"

"Stupid." She was outraged. "What, pray, was stupid about that?! And why would I have to explain my motives to you?"

"I didn't tell you all that just so you would go and get yourself killed!"

"Well then, what did you expect me to do? Write down in my diary that I knew where the last Horcrux was and never go after it?"

Snape stared at her again, shaking with wrath. "You said you would discuss this with the others! You were _not_ supposed to go and risk your life alone!"

Minerva rose from her chair again, drawing herself up to full height. Her voice now clearly rang with fury.

"I did discuss matters with the rest of the Order. Some believed me; some thought it to be a trap that you put up."

"I expected that." Snape stormed. "_We_ expected that!"

He took his pacing up again, like a caged animal. "What on earth made you go there alone?! You of all people should have known this was the most dangerous one!"

"Then what would you have had me do? Send one of the others to get it?! I don't give orders that may kill people!"

She shot a look of pure venom at him. "Which of them should I have sacrificed in your opinion? Remus? Bill? They would have gone because they trust you now. Or should I have chosen one of those who still distrust you? Someone whose death would not have mattered that much? You disgust me, do you know that!"

He stopped his pacing and whirled around. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her aggressively.

"I would have gone! - Damn, I expected this! It was obvious you lot would disagree, that you would not know how to proceed. I would have gone to retrieve that darn Horcrux and thus prove my loyalty to the rest of them!"

"Oh, if you must know, that was my reason exactly!" she shouted back at the top of her voice. "I wanted to get that thing so I could prove you were loyal to us! I wanted to end this fruitless discussion."

Snape still held her by the shoulders, his fingers digging deep into her flesh. She pushed him away.

"You're hurting me."

He remained standing where she had pushed him to. His face was a mask of terror.

"But you could have died," he finally managed hoarsely. "It was nothing but - but sheer luck that I found you in time."

"I knew about the dangers and I thought it was worth taking the risk. Better my life than any of the others."

"You foolish woman!" he muttered in disbelief, turning away. "Darn Gryffindor pride! Always so revoltingly noble, so brave… Minerva, I would have gone!!! How many times more do I have to tell you this? I would never have told you if I had known you would do this!"

"Would you please allow me to make my own decisions! I will not have you withhold information from me just because you do not think it safe to tell me."

"Don't you understand?" he shouted again. "You almost died in my arms! You almost died because of something I told you! Why?"

"I have told you. I did not wish to risk another person's life, that's why."

She grew increasingly impatient with this whole discussion.

"But I would have done it. There was no need to put any of them at risk, or yourself."

"When I use the term 'other people', that does include you. Do you honestly believe I would value your life less that the lives of them all?" Her voice was cold as ice.

"You should! I am the traitor, the murderer."

"Stop it, Severus."

She grabbed his arm, forcing him to stand still and to look at her.

"What is this really about? This shouting duel will lead us nowhere."

They stared at each other with utmost anger for a few, very long seconds.

"What do you mean?" he finally said, struggling to keep his voice straight.

"I think you know what I mean." Minerva took a deep breath to calm herself.

"You know I was right to go alone. It was the logical choice. I would not want anyone of the Order to risk his or her life for this, and I would not have you risk your life, either. This was my task, and you know me well enough that you could have predicted my actions."

He flinched, but did not reply immediately.

"Severus, why is it that you suddenly want to see yourself punished?"

She tried to stare him down, wishing not for the first time that her Legilimency skills were better. There was just no way of knowing what was going on in his mind.

"Because – you –almost –died," he managed through clenched teeth.

"Almost. But I didn't, thanks to you. Everything turned out to be alright."

"The risk you took was too high. It was absurd."

"The risk was high, but it was calculated. Of all people, you should have known I would take it. It was logical to do so."

She did feel rather exhausted with all that fighting by now. Taking another deep breath, she leaned against the table behind her.

"Severus, what is the real reason for this fight? There is something you're not telling me."

Snape took a few steps away from her and looked out of the window for a while, pondering about something. Then, he turned around slowly and looked her straight in the eyes. A smile appeared on his face, but certainly not a pleasant one.

"No…" he said at length, in a cold, threatening manner. "Don't try this psychological analysing on me. It is you who is keeping something from me."

"Excuse me?!"

"I have told you the truth. I did not want you to risk your life, and I am _very _angry that you silly woman had to go and do something foolishly noble. It's you who is not telling the entire truth here."

"Why would I lie to you?" she hissed back.

He continued to look at her for another moment with snake-like calm, his expression blank.

"You said I should have been able to predict what you were going to do. You said I knew you well enough. I thought so, too. The logical action for you was not rushing off to retrieve the Horcrux yourself – unprepared for anything that was to come."

Minerva held her breath for a moment. He was actually getting dangerously close to a truth she did not like to admit even to herself.

Snape continued sadistically slow. Now that he had seen a spark of fear in her eyes, he almost seemed to enjoy the scene.

"The Dark Lord is not very active at the moment. There was no need to hurry. The logical choice would have been to find out as much as possible about the hiding place. I would have aided you there, you know that.

The logical action would have been to tell me that the Order stands undecided, and that you need more information. The logical choice was not to play the heroine – spontaneous, unprepared, and uninformed."

She found it increasingly harder to look at him. There was that nasty smile upon his lips again.

"I do know you, _Professor_ McGonagall. You think ahead. You plan. Your behaviour makes sense. Normally, you would have taken the logical course of action. Why did you act so – foolishly? What factor is there that you refuse to tell me?"

This time, it was she who turned away from him.

Looking at her hands, she shuddered to think how well that man actually knew her. He had spotted just the thing that gave her feelings away. None of the others had noticed; all of them had easily bought her excuse that she had simply not wanted any of them to be in danger – after all, had Moody told them before he had gone to retrieve the Ravenclaw Horcrux?

But Snape had put his finger right on the point where there was a flaw in her story.

She had had a reason for not doing the logical thing - and it had been a silly, emotional reason. She had wanted to take the opportunity to prove Snape's loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix – really she had not only wanted to take the opportunity, she had jumped at it. Snape himself seemed content with his present status, he obviously did not care whether they trusted him or not. It mattered to _her_ to see him cleared in their eyes – because she cared for him much more than she ought to.

She turned back around but found herself unable to meet his eyes.

"I am sorry, Severus. I made a mistake."

"I know that, I saw the results of your mistake."

"So?"

"I want to know _why_ you made this mistake."

"I don't know."

"Look at me. You do know."

His voice was still calm, but she could already trace the anger flaming up again.

"I said I don't know."

He laughed humourlessly. "I would have thought you to be a better liar. And I used to think that you do trust me again."

"Alright, Severus, alright." Bravely she tried to look at him. "There is a reason. I just can't - please don't make me tell you."

"I should have known. You do not trust me," he said bitterly.

"I do!"

"Then why can't you tell me? I thought we were on the same side again."

She had expected him to grow furious once more, and there was quite a bit of anger in his voice by now. But there were other emotions betrayed in his tone, too – frustration, disappointment, maybe even a bit of vulnerably. Or did she just imagine that?

She could have dealt with the wrath; frequent arguments over the last couple of years had taught her how to handle that. But she did not know what to make of these other feelings. If they were there, indeed.

"This has nothing to do with this – this war. Severus, I trust you. I would tell you anything."

"Anything but this, you mean."

She nodded slowly, avoiding his eyes. The tension between them seemed unbearable, yet she did not know what to say. Snape had walked over to the window again. Gazing into the darkness outside, he leaned on the windowsill with both hands.

In the dim light of the kitchen, she stared at the back of his head. If only he did not know her so well. If only she had not fallen in love with him. With some irritation, she found it increasingly difficult to blink her tears away.

After another minute of uncomfortable silence, he spoke again. He did not turn around, but kept his gaze fixed on the shrubs in front of the window.

"Minerva, I have to know this. I have to know if I can trust you."

"Of course you can!" she winced, furiously wiping one tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

"No," he decided calmly, "I cannot trust you any more. I tell you something, and the next thing I know is I find you half-dead. Will this happen again? I can't predict that because you won't confide your reasons. The result is that I have to stop trusting you. I cannot tell you any more what I find out." Still he did not look at her.

"I thought we were friends," he added bitterly.

Minerva bit her lips in an effort not to cry out loudly. It was the first time ever one of them had openly called the other one his friend. She would never have thought that hearing this word could hurt so much.

"Oh, fine!" she suddenly snapped, surprised to hear her own voice shout out.

"I will tell you!" She was hysterical now, furious that he would force her to betray her secret. She burst into tears, shouting at Snape between sobs.

"You are the reason! I wanted to put a stop to all this mistrust, I so wanted them to understand you are loyal. I simply wanted to prove that you are no Death Eater!"

"But – " he looked at her disbelievingly, "you know I don't care about them. As long as you believe me, I don't care what Potter, Moody and the lot think."

"But I care!" she wailed; now totally breaking down. "I care, and I am so sick of listening to them accusing you, I have had enough of all this arguing and guessing! I very much care what they think of you – " her voice broke. "– because I love you."

The last few words had been a mere whisper, but she knew Snape had heard them well enough.

Deeply embarrassed, she wiped her eyes again. Snape did not reply at all. When she dared to look at him after a few seconds, he seemed frozen with horror. His face had turned paler than she had ever seen it before, and he had actually grabbed the back of a chair to support himself on it. Clearly, he was in shock.

Minerva McGonagall felt her face grow bright red. She had never, ever in her life felt so ashamed.

"Don't look at me like that!" she whispered frantically.

"Please, don't. Please, I know this isn't right, I know I'm twice your age and this is really disgusting. I wasn't ever going to tell you, it just… I won't mention it ever again, I swear…" She turned away from him, sobbing uncontrollably.

"No - Minerva…" he suddenly croaked, taking one step towards her.

"Get away from me!" she shrieked. "Get out, move! Leave me alone!"

She tried to hide her face and gesture him away at the same time, when all of a sudden the door of the room burst open. Moody stormed into the kitchen, closely followed by the others.

"That's about enough!" he yelled, grabbing Snape from behind and forcing him away from her.

Minerva looked at Moody in terror. "Did you hear - ?"

"We didn't hear a thing." Lupin quietly interrupted, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"But Alastor did of course watch you through the walls. Seeing what state you are in, I think he was right when he decided to aid you in this argument."

"What did the bastard say to you?" Moody demanded, threatening Snape with his wand.

Minerva saw Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt standing on Snape's other side, both also had their wands drawn. Snape, however, stood totally motionless. It was hard to tell if he even noticed the three wizards holding him back.

"We really didn't mean to storm in like that," Shacklebolt explained. "But when Mad-Eye said you were actually crying and that Snape advanced on you, we though it safer…"

Minerva met Moody's gaze, but was a total loss of what to say. Moody then turned back to Snape, cursing and shouting something about "making the lady cry" and "apologise!"

Snape still stood transfixed.

"Leave him." Minerva found her voice again. "Just let him go."

"Are you sure, Minerva?" Bill asked quietly.

She nodded.

"Alright," Arthur Weasley lowered his wand. "Severus, I think it'd be better if you left this house now."

"Not yet." Snape had finally regained the power of speech. "There is something I have to tell her."

"I think you have said enough for tonight," Lupin replied quietly.

"This is important," Snape hissed.

"Severus, please just leave me alone," Minerva said, looking down at her hands again.

"But – "

"Didn't you hear her?" This time, it was Harry who shouted at Snape. "Just get lost!"

Snape stared at Harry loathingly.

"I will have my say," he snarled at Harry, but then he slowly looked around in the kitchen room. Wands were pointed at him from every direction. Clearly, there was no chance for him to speak to Minerva alone. Painfully controlling his anger, he obviously did some quick thinking.

"Minerva. Listen to me. This is important," he said urgently.

She did look up a bit, still not quite able to meet his eye.

"This – this predicament you just told me about – "

She drew in a sharp breath, and he continued. "I know this situation – very well."

Suspiciously, she shot a quizzical look at him. What was he aiming at? Swallowing hard, he tried to explain better with everyone in the room staring at him.

"I've been experiencing this – this same situation – for a long time."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Snape closed his eyes in a noticeable effort to fight down his anger at Harry interrupting again.

Minerva watched him in great confusion. She had no idea what he was talking about, but it seemed that he was trying to make the situation less humiliating for her.

Moody raised his wand again. Snape pressed his lips together as if fighting back more words; then he turned on his heel and swept out of the house.


	6. A Report on War and Love

About five minutes later, Minerva McGonagall looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Never in her life had she felt that confused. She had washed her face with cold water, re-done what little make-up she wore, and made sure no strands had escaped the tight bun of her hair. Her eyes still appeared a little red, but other than that her mirror image looked just plain ordinary. How could her looks not betray the bewilderment of her mind?

The sensation most prominent in her turmoil of emotions still was shame.

She felt deeply ashamed for the love she had developed. The man was half her age; about 35 years younger. She had known him as an 11-year-old boy. Now he was a grown man, young still by wizarding standards, whereas she was about to turn into an old woman – really, the world 'elderly' could already be employed when talking about her.

With raven-black hair, a slim figure and very few lines in her face she might not quite look her age (only a few weeks ago she had overheard a Muggle calling her 'maybe 55 years old'), but the fact remained that she was way too old to fall for a man so much younger.

If truth be told this age difference was rather disgusting – she would have felt bad about it even if she were 20 years younger. On top of all that, the man she had fallen in love with was a former student. This would, in her opinion, have ruled out a relationship even if they were closer in age.

Of course, one did not choose to fall in love. No one could hold her responsible for the way she felt, even if her affection was appalling and unnatural. But it had been an unforgivable mistake to allow herself to speak of this love; to declare it to the very man in question.

No wonder that he had stared at her in shock. Of course he was not interested in her. Snape was not even a socially friendly person. It seemed somewhat unbelievable that they had ever been able to build up something like a friendship – and now she had destroyed the very same amity with just one sentence. Things would never be the same again.

This was another reason for the shame she felt – not only did her own feelings disgust her, but she knew that Snape in his present situation badly needed friends. Thinking the matter over, she had realised that with Dumbledore gone, she was probably the only real friend Snape had left – and now she had done the one thing that would make a close friendship impossible in the future.

Minerva had not quite understood what message Snape had tried to convey to her before he had been driven to leave. Clearly, he had seen how embarrassed she had been.

She was convinced of the fact that, just when Moody had blown the door open, Snape had actually wanted to comfort her.

This thought was somewhat reassuring. No matter how taken aback Snape must have felt after her confession, he had overcome the first sentiment of shock and tried to do something nice – really quite extraordinary when one considered what kind of person Snape normally was.

Even after the others had tried to make him leave, he had still made an effort to calm her. What was it again that he had said? Something about knowing the situation well, about sharing the same predicament.

Well, that appeared quite likely. In all the years they had worked together, she had rarely seen him with a woman. In fact, she did not remember anything that might have suggested Snape had had stable relationships rather than short affairs. So it was quite likely that he knew the predicament of being in love with a person one could not have.

It had indeed been nice of him to point out that her unrequited love was not such an uncommon thing. Minerva resolved to behave herself and never mention the subject again – maybe that way they would in the future be able to establish a professional relationship within the Order of the Phoenix.

The other problem Minerva now needed to overcome was far more pressing – it was the people waiting for her in the kitchen room. They had seen her crying hysterically, and Moody had witnessed at least the visible part of their fight.

There was no use in denying that she had just had a terrible clash with Snape, in fact the most terrible one they had had so far. The people present at Grimmauld Place would want an explanation for that. She would have to do some quick thinking now.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door and went back into the hallway. Lupin stood there, waiting for her.

"Better?" he asked.

"Mm. Thank you," she replied, not too happy to see him.

"I have thought up a little story," Lupin grinned.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just a hunch, but I don't think you intend to tell us what this fight really was about."

"Why do you think so?" she asked suspiciously.

"I didn't mean to insult you. It's just that… well, I had one year's time to watch you and Severus dispute almost every day – and I always had the impression that the both of you rather liked this sport. None of you ever really hurt the other one; it was friendly rivalry I should say."

"So?"

"Whatever the two of you just fought about in the kitchen, this was serious. You know he used his old Muffliato Spell on us, right? That means we did not understand a word of what you said, but we certainly noticed the volume of your screams and yells."

"It was a serious fight. Remus, I'd just rather not tell anyone what it was about."

"That much I thought – it was some private matter. Possibly about Dumbledore, possibly about Harry, certainly nothing you'd wish to share with a dozen other people. Here's where my little story comes into play. I just told the other ones that I had an idea what your fight might have been about. I said that I suspected it was about Hagrid and the giants. You know that Hagrid told Madam Rosmerta that he had gone to see family after doing another errand."

"Yes. Moody told me, and I did have a word about this with Hagrid. If a Death Eater spy had overheard that, he could have figured out that this other errand was freeing the dragons."

"Exactly. Considering Severus's temper, this is something he could get very angry about. If Voldemort ever learns that the dragons were freed deliberately, he will realise that he has a traitor amongst his own people. Hagrid's comment was dangerous for Severus."

"But Severus would never attack me for that – not like he did tonight."

"True, you and I know that. But how many of us know Severus that well? Most of them expect only the worst of him. Admit this fight was about you not controlling Hagrid properly and they will believe it."

Minerva considered this for a moment. It was not a bad story, after all.

"Alright…" she nodded. "You said you have already planted the seed?"

"Yes. I bet they have convinced themselves of it already. If you now do them the favour of reluctantly agreeing to their arguments, you won't ever have to explain what you just fought about."

"And they won't think it strange that I just cried like a baby just because Severus Snape shouted a bit?"

"He did not shout just a little bit, the two of you had one of the worst rows I ever witnessed. And with you in that condition, still weak from last week's experiences, still pale as a ghost… no, I don't think anyone will think it strange."

Minerva hestitated. Lupin did indeed offer her a beautiful story to get herself off the hook.

"You do make this a little too easy for me, Remus. And I really don't like lying to them."

"Would you rather tell the truth?" He grinned again, a boyish, marauder-like grin.

She had blushed again – thank goodness it was really dark in the hallway.

"No. This was private; it'd rather not discuss it with Kingsley and Alastor."

"I thought so." Lupin started walking towards the kitchen door, but then he stopped and looked her in the face again.

"Minerva? – Why don't we make a deal? I'll help you a bit here, do the lying for you and all you have to do is nod your head now and then. And in return you will someday tell me what this whole scene really was about. When you're ready."

She would have agreed to anything by then. Really all she wanted to do now was go back to Hogwarts, hide in her bed and cry herself to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next few days, Minerva went about as if in a daze. She still felt deeply embarrassed, a feeling somewhat enhanced by the fact that she did not hear from Snape.

No wonder that he was reluctant to show his face at Hogwarts after the show she had put up. She both longed for his next visit and dreaded it at the same time. Of course, she would apologise to him right away, and tell him that she did not expect anything from him and would never bring the subject up again. But she dreaded being alone with the man; she knew she'd be mortified with shame then.

Minerva tried her best to appear at school as if nothing had happened, which seemed to work out. When she lost a game of chess to Flitwick – a very unusual thing to happen – she pretended to have a headache. This explanation for her lack of concentration was accepted without question.

After four days, a very small, ragged-looking owl appeared at her window early in the morning hours. It bore only a very short, odd message:

_Read the Muggle papers. Do not return the owl._

The handwriting looked much like Snape's, but the words had been scribbled down in such haste that she could not be sure of it. There was no further explanation.

Minerva went to the owlery right away and locked the animal in a cage, lest it would fly back to the sender. Then she went to Hogsmeade, where she would be able to purchase some Muggle newspapers at the post office.

Over breakfast she read the papers from first to last page twice before she noticed the two articles. They were hidden in the local news, reporting minor incidents – things that would go unnoticed by the staff of the Daily Prophet, as apparently no magic had been involved.

The first article reported that fishermen from a small village close to Southend-on-Sea had noticed a minor change in the coastline – a small cavern seemed to have caved in overnight. It could only be seen from the sea and had never been of any particular interest.

The second article concerned an incident that had taken place in a London graveyard – a small crypt which had years ago been used to bury poor people had been opened forcefully. Police suspected vandalism, because the crypt and some of the graves surrounding it showed signs of an explosion. Some underprivileged kids who had months ago committed arson in a church nearby were considered the main suspects.

To Minerva McGonagall, Head of the Order of the Phoenix, these articles of course meant something else. Voldemort must have found out that his Horcruxes were gone – most likely he had blown up his mother's grave in an outburst of anger. Same might be true for the seaside cave, or he could have deliberately destroyed the place to hide all traces of the magic he had performed there.

Minerva felt cold with shock all of a sudden. Voldemort knew that his Horcruxes had been destroyed.

This explained Snape's absence, and the odd message he had sent. Most likely he and the other members of Voldemort's inner circle were with their master at all times now, which also meant that they constantly watched over each other. Sneaking away to the Order of the Phoenix, or even sending a Patronus message like in old times seemed a terribly risky thing to do then.

Horrified, Minerva also realised that Snape's life was in graver danger than ever before – by now Voldemort's paranoia must have increased tremendously. He was sure to suspect a spy amongst his followers. Shuddering with fear, Minerva got up from the breakfast table to send messages to the members of the Order.

She received another message from Snape two days later, this time in Patronus form. Again he asked her not to reply to him because he could not guarantee he would be alone. He would try to come to the next meeting of the Order, if she would tell him the day and time – he suggested an encoded advertisement in the Daily Prophet. Gladly, she followed his instructions.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next Sunday evening, the whole Order of the Phoenix had assembled in Grimmauld Place. Even those members who usually did not partake in the discussions had arrived – Dedalus Diggle, Fleur Weasley and Hagrid shared the seats by the fireplace at the far end of the kitchen. Molly Weasley handed out coffee and tea for everyone. Finally Snape arrived.

He looked worse than ever. The lines in his face were etched in deeply, and there were dark rings under his eyes. Clearly he hadn't slept in days. There were traces of already healing burns on his right cheek and his hands. His hair was a matted, tangled mess, and his robes appeared torn at the hem. Minerva bit her lip in an effort to keep a straight face.

"Severus," Lupin greeted Snape calmly.

He got up and stood behind Tonks's chair, politely offering his seat to Snape. Moody growled under his breath.

Snape nodded to them all, and then sat down quietly. He looked at Minerva for a moment, greeting her with a faint smile. She nodded back, and Snape drew in a deep breath.

"I do not know how long I can stay," he said to no one in particular. "The Dark Lord is very unpredictable these days. He might call me back to him any minute." He rubbed the Dark Mark on his left arm absent-mindedly.

Hermione pushed a mug of coffee towards him. "You look tired," she said a bit sheepishly.

"Thank you," he said dryly, but took the coffee from her. The tension in the room was agonising.

"What can you tell us?" Minerva asked carefully.

"Several things." He warmed his hands with the coffee mug. "I would like to apologise first," he added stiffly.

"I should say so!" Molly Weasley interrupted him, unable to control her irritation any longer. "Really, there was no need for this hostility against Minerva. She had already talked to Hagrid."

Snape looked at Mrs Weasley blankly, but Lupin said quickly: "Minerva was quite reluctant to tell us, but in the end she admitted that you were angry with her because she had not stopped Hagrid from making that blunder. We had guessed it anyway."

"Ye should have come to me," Hagrid growled, "not bother the Headmistress with such."

"It's alright," Minerva stated firmly, shutting them all up. "Let us turn to more important matters."

"Nevertheless, I would like to have a private word with you," Snape insisted.

"Of course," she agreed, trying to sound nonchalant. "Maybe we can talk after this meeting."

He nodded, and stared at his coffee for a moment. Everyone was waiting for him to begin his report.

"As you will know by now, the Dark Lord is aware that his Horcruxes are destroyed. He has checked on every one of them, except for the Sorting Hat of course. But he believes it destroyed, too. I need not explain that he is furious beyond reasoning."

"How did he find out?" Moody asked.

"Bellatrix Lestrange. She suffers from not being his favourite any more and she wants to make up for her failure in the Department of Mysteries. That is why she set it in her mind to add more protection to the site of the Ravenclaw Horcrux – the only one she knew about, by the way. She found the cave empty and reported it to him."

Snape drank some more coffee. He seemed to need it to fight his fatigue.

"The Dark Lord took some of us along to check on the other Horcruxes. We went to the seaside cavern first, then the Gaunt House, and finally to Merope Gaunt's grave. He burned the Gaunt House down in his wrath."

"That were your burns come from?" George asked.

"No. I blew up Merope's grave. Acting out my fury because my Lord had been deceived…" he said sarcastically. "Also it gave me an opportunity to 'prove' that I had no idea how well-protected the place was, and to erase all traces I might have left there earlier."

"Smart thinking," Lupin agreed.

Snape shrugged. "I got burned because the hex backfired of course, and the Dark Lord is convinced that I had never before been to the place."

"Do you know what he plans to do now?" Minerva asked.

"Well, he wants to punish those responsible. Naturally he believes there is a spy amongst his followers – first he suspected Pettigrew, but he found out it's not him."

"How?" Ron asked, anticipating the answer.

"Legilimency. Torture. The usual," Snape replied stoically. "He used Cruciatus on almost every one of his followers – I got lucky, because after Dumbledore's death he has come to consider me his loyal follower. Right now he suspects Draco Malfoy."

"But won't he find out it's not Draco?"

"I am not sure. Draco is no Death Eater, no matter how badly he wanted to be one. I believe Draco would now betray the Dark Lord if he could - and Draco knew about the Horcruxes through his father. I think when the Dark Lord legilimences him, he senses the guilt and the lack of loyalty. So far Draco is alive only because the Dark Lord can use him to pressure Narcissa Malfoy."

His words were followed by painful silence. No one had ever liked Draco much, but to see his life endangered like that was too much punishment for the foolishness of the boy. Even if he was responsible for the Death Eater attack on Hogwarts, Draco still was something like a misguided boy only.

Snape went on after a few moments.

"Then, he wants to punish those who actually destroyed the Horcruxes. He thinks it was Dumbledore, of course, but aided by the Order. You, Alastor, and you, Minerva, are his prime suspects. He will hunt you down if you let him. Oh, and he will most likely go after Flitwick and Slughorn, too."

"We always knew he would come after us, one day." Minerva said. "Why Filius and Horace?"

"He believes them to be members of the Order, or to know about Dumbledore's plans at least. They are powerful wizards and he fears them to some extend. I suspect Slughorn taught the Dark Lord about Horcruxes when he was at Hogwarts."

"He did," Harry agreed reluctantly. "Slughorn gave me his memory of that moment."

Minerva sighed. "I shall warn them. What else do we need to know?"

"He will create new Horcruxes most likely. But that kind of thing needs preparation. He will have to find objects he deems worthy. I think he will ultimately settle for some relicts, something from the Department of Magical History probably. But he will not go for long without any protection from death…" Snape paused for a moment, pondering on the subject.

"He is working on something else. He is trying to develop a counter-spell against the Killing Curse."

"A counter-spell to Avada Kedavra?" Moody barked. "That's impossible!"

"That is what we know so far. But he has succeeded somewhat. There seems to be a way to shield against the curse for a certain amount of time. He tests it on his prisoners."

"What?"

"Those of his prisoners that he has sentenced to death. Usually Nott executes them. The Dark Lord has Nott cast the curse, then he tries to hold it back for as long as he can. He is quite successful with the shielding. But it appears that to shield someone from the Avada Kedavra, you need to be close to the victim and absorb a good part of the spell's energy. It drains the life out of the person holding against the spell – possibly this is what Harry's mother unknowingly did before her death."

Some uncomfortable glances were exchanged all around the table.

"And then?" Tonks then quietly asked, "Is that all that is needed to block the Killing Curse?"

"No. So far he can only shield the victim for maybe a minute, then he has to give in and the victim dies. He is very exhausted after those efforts. But if he finds a way to develop a counter-curse… I will try to learn this from him. Possibly one can shield the victim fist, and then break the curse while the protection lasts."

"Would he teach you?" Minerva asked curiously.

"I don't think so. If he finds a way to protect himself against the Avada Kedavra, I don't think he would teach anyone. But I might be able to learn it on my own by watching him… and the way I learned about the Horcruxes."

"That sounds very dangerous," Ron said.

"The Dark Lord also has divided his forces," Snape continued as if he had not heard Ron.

"There is an inner circle of Death Eaters which I belong to. And there is a fairly big army now – mainly the Dementors, some more dark wizards, some giants, and the werewolves. It is my belief he will send them into his grand battle, and soon. He made a remark directly before the destruction of the Horcruxes was discovered, something about a surprise he had for us. For us, the inner circle, I mean.

I think he wants some of us to hold key positions in the reign he plans, so he cannot afford to lose us in this battle. He will not have us participate in it, and possibly he will not even tell us about it before it is to happen. Especially now that he suspects a spy amongst us."

"That is bad news."

"I think he may attack in London – Diagon Alley, the Ministry of Magic, Daily Prophet office, St. Mungo's, or all of them together. The other potential place for the battle is Hogwarts. Or Azkaban. I do not know for sure, this is just guesswork."

Snape drank the rest of his coffee, then he turned to look at Minerva. "I am afraid this is all I can report today."

"You told us very much," she answered. All of them sat in gloomy silence for some time.

"Is there something we can do for young Mr Malfoy?" Minerva asked after a while.

"I think if we found a way to protect his mother he might dare to turn on the Dark Lord. He is too afraid now."

"Can you talk to him?"

"Honestly, I don't know if I dare. He is with his aunt most of the time. If he learned about my true loyalty… I don't think it safe to confide in him."

"Where is his mother? Maybe if we found her first and brought her into safety…" Lupin wondered.

"Mostly she stays with the Bellatrix Lestrange, too. I do not know where."

"We'll have to find out." Arthur Weasley said. "I never liked the family, but if we can do anything to save Narcissa Malfoy and her son, we should do it."

"I will see what I can find out," Snape agreed reluctantly. He got up from the table.

"What are you going to do now?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked.

"Get some sleep."

"You look like you need it, too." Tonks said dryly.

Snape shrugged irritably. He glanced at Minerva again, as if trying to find a way to separate her from the crowd.

"I'll walk you to the door," she said resolutely, getting up from her seat.

Everybody else remained seated in a dark mood, only George pulled something out of his pocket and showed it to Ron under the table. They all had understood that she wanted to be alone with Snape for a minute.

"And don't you shut us out again!" Moody snarled. "You try anything funny alone with her and I'll get you this time!"

"Alastor! Will you shut up!" Minerva snapped.

Once they were alone in the hallway, Minerva felt her cheeks grow red again. Thank goodness Snape had turned away from her and looked out of the small window next to the door.

The silence was uncomfortable. Snape heaved a sigh. He turned around and watched her in the dim light. Minerva felt something tighten in her chest.

"I am afraid I am not good at this," he finally said.

"Good at what?" she asked in surprise.

"At this – talking about feelings." His voice was low.

"Oh. Yes." She fought the impulse to run away, screaming madly. "Severus, I am so sorry I ever mentioned this. I know how wrong it is."

She, too, had whispered, fully aware that they might be overheard in the kitchen. Using the Muffliato Spell again was surely not a good idea with Moody playing the chaperone, lest he'd storm in again once magic was used.

Snape held his breath for a moment, eying Minerva critically.

"I shall never speak of it again," she promised. "I wish it would not affect our friendship."

"You didn't understand what I tried to tell you after they bust in, did you?"

"You tired to comfort me. It was a very kind thing to do."

There was a loud clatter from the kitchen, accompanied by several shouts and some laughter. Most likely Tonks had dropped something again. Snape's eyes narrowed while he watched the kitchen door carefully.

"Think Mad-Eye is watching us again?"

"Most likely. And listening, too!" she raised her voice.

They heard an annoyed grunt from the door, which was slammed shut two seconds later.

Snape looked around in the dark corridor as if to find a place where to hide – quite impossible of course with Moody's magical eye following them. Finally, his black eyes rested on Minerva's anxious face again. He drew in another deep breath.

"You are a lot braver than I am, Minerva."

"What are you talking about?"

"You dared to tell me something I would never have told you," he whispered, desperate not to be overheard by anyone in the kitchen.

She did not reply, waiting in bewilderment for what was to come now.

"Minerva…" he looked her straight in the eyes, still whispering. "Did you really mean that? Did you mean that you honestly love me?"

She felt a wave of shame washing over her again. Her face burned like fire.

"Yes," she replied hoarsely. "I have fallen in love with you."

He closed his eyes for a moment before he went on.

"I feel the same," he said.

There was another outburst of laughter in the kitchen. They could hear Molly Weasley telling her sons off for "fooling around at a time like this". Obviously, Fred and George had successfully tried to lighten the mood with one of their devices. Minerva's attention snapped back to the man standing in front of her. Had Snape actually just told her that he loved her, too?

"Don't be ridiculous." She spoke the first thing on her mind.

"I am dead serious." Snape even managed to look a little hurt.

"But how can you – how could you? I'm old enough to be your mother!"

"Keep your voice down," he warned her carefully.

"Sorry," she whispered. "It's just that this whole sentiment is so – wrong."

"I know. I've tried to convince myself of that, too. Unsuccessfully, I might add."

The kitchen door creaked again, as if someone was leaning against it.

"We have to continue this discussion somewhere else," Snape said.

"Yes."

None of them moved. They still stood two feet apart. Snape finally reached out and squeezed her hand for a short moment.

"I know this can never be," he said. "It is wrong, and I was never going to tell you because of that. But now you know."

He quickly left the house, looking as if he was fleeing from something. Minerva went back into the kitchen. She was going to have a word with Moody about the difference between 'safeguarding a fellow member of the Order' and 'overly protective eavesdropping on a friend.'

Also she was going to tell them that she would lift the enchantments which prevented Snape from entering Hogwarts through the front doors.


	7. Denial

Snape's confession had, oddly enough, helped to calm Minerva. She now found it a lot easier to believe that his first visit right after Dumbledore's burial had indeed been a spontaneous action. What was it again that he had said? 'I could not bear the thought that you believe me to be a traitor.' This made sense indeed if he cared for her.

Nevertheless, she still felt that a relationship between them was totally out of the question. They had bonded only because of the uncommon situation they were in, but a teacher/student love relationship with that much of an age difference was simply unacceptable.

Minerva was convinced that Snape had the same views on that matter. It was a comforting thought, too. Maybe they would now be able to continue a friendship, based on a secret fault they had in common.

Snape came to see her two days later. He looked better, as if he had at least had one good night's sleep in the meantime. He also was back in shape regarding his self control. When she told him her views, he agreed immediately, adding that under the circumstances they were living in, any kind of relationship was something that they could not even attempt. The more time they spent together, the more likely it was that they should be discovered. None of them wanted to endanger the other one's life.

Their whole meeting was oddly formal. They spoke of their feelings almost as if they were symptoms of a disease – Snape was obviously uncomfortable with the fact that he had emotions at all. Minerva found that this detached, clinical way of analysing her emotions helped her not to break down over the matter.

Actually, Minerva was convinced that Snape did not truly love her, but felt only a deep affection based on their friendship and the secret meetings they had had during the last months – bonding in extreme situations was a different thing than true romantic love.

She herself knew it was simply wrong to love a younger man, but for him it surely was out of the question to feel real desire for an old woman.

In the end, they decided in mutual consent that they would never again mention the subject of this forbidden love.

Snape seemed eager to leave after they had agreed on these terms, and in truth Minerva was not too unhappy about it. She wanted to be alone with her feelings and work hard on erasing them from her heart.

Snape stood by her door, his expression cold. Whatever feelings he had, he also did his best to hide them.

"I will come to see you as soon as I have new information for you. Just as usual," he said.

Minerva could hardly answer him; she was almost choking on tears she desperately fought back.

"See you then," she replied with forced calm, he voice shaking only very little.

Suddenly, Snape drew her into an inept embrace, awkwardly patting her shoulder.

They held on to each other for what seemed an eternity but really could not have been more than a few seconds. Then he stiffened again and pushed her away, not too gently. Still holding her shoulders, he seemed to struggle for the right words.

"I have to let go now," he said. "I have to, or everything we discussed tonight will be void. I cannot stand touching you."

She nodded. "I understand perfectly. Goodbye, Severus."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

February turned to March and Snape usually reported to the Order every three to four days. Now that Snape was generally accepted to show his face in Grimmauld Place again, they usually held their meetings there.

He would send a message when he could be there and generally most of the active members of the Order showed up. Only once he came to see Minerva unannounced; a meeting which they held short and businesslike. Otherwise, they avoided being alone whenever possible.

On March 2nd, Snape strongly advised the Weasley twins to abandon their shop in Diagon Alley. Voldemort had summoned his Dementors to London.

During this meeting it was also decided that Minerva was to inform the Minister for Magic that she had received information about an imminent battle, even if that would most likely serve as more evidence to Voldemort that indeed a spy was active in his inner circle.

Their action was not one minute too late. Scrimgeour, who still held a grudge against anyone who had been Dumbledore's friend, was very reluctant to listen to the information provided by the Hogwarts Headmistress. Luckily he finally decided that it was safer to listen to her and increase protection on the Ministry and the other magical buildings in London.

Two days later, their worst fears became true. Voldemort had found a way to apparate the giants into St. Mungo's. Due to the increased protection of the place, they were eventually fought off, but not before they had destroyed two levels of the hospital. About 50 staff members and patients were killed, Frank Longbottom among them.

The attack on Diagon Alley took place at the same time. Dementors, werewolves and two giants basically took the area over. Luckily, the street had been almost deserted anyway – many had taken it as a bad omen that a joyful place like the Weasley Shop would finally close, and had left for good on the very night before the battle.

Still there were many victims, and the giants simply destroyed the buildings. Diagon Alley as they had known it existed no more. The only house left was Gringotts, which the goblins had in time sealed from the inside. Although they and all the vaults under the building were probably safe, this meant of course that everyone was left only with the gold they had had in their homes at that time.

Much to everyone's horror, the Ministry of Magic was hit hardest. Voldemort had mobilised about 200 dark wizards and lower-ranking Death Eaters who attacked, aided by the rest of the Dementors. It was pure coincidence that Arthur Weasley happened not to be in the Ministry at the time of the attack, he had gone on an errand to the Daily Prophet office.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was less fortunate. He had taken a day off at the Muggle Prime Minister's office because he had wanted to warn some of his former Ministry colleagues. The were killed in the battle together.

The Ministry of Magic was entirely taken over by the Death Eaters. Nobody knew about the whereabouts of Rufus Scrimgeour, but he was presumed to be dead, too. Percy Weasley was reported missing.

Dementors were been sighted in Hogsmeade, but apart from two werewolf attacks people there were left alone. The only place that Voldemort had obviously not yet wanted to attack was Hogwarts.

The magical community was left in shock. They had no government any more, the economy was down and many people were left too poor to buy food because they could not any longer access their money.

The only place in London which had been left alone was the Daily Prophet office – in fact, messages from Lord Voldemort arrived there, pointing out where additional, smaller attacks had taken place all over the country. The Dark Lord wanted the press to spread the news of his deeds.

Hundreds of owls from frantic parents arrived at Hogwarts. Some families wanted to take their children out of the school immediately. Many of them demanded that the school should close altogether.

But other letters arrived, too, from the neighbours, nannies and babysitters of people who had been killed in the attacks.

These neighbours asked if the children they had been guarding at the time of the battle could be sent to Hogwarts, 'the safest place.'

All of the school governors resigned. They did not want to be held responsible for the decisions that were needed now. After much discussing, the Hogwarts staff finally voted to keep the school open. Some of the students left.

At first, the teachers had not wanted to take over the responsibility for additional children who were too young for Hogwarts, but soon they had to allow them in. Many of those children had lost their parents and guardians in the attacks and now their older siblings at Hogwarts were their only family left.

Some of the older students helped to set up a kind of kindergarten for the young ones – the castle became half-school, half-orphanage.

Tonks came to live with Lupin at Hogwarts and took over the care for the small children. Classes continued in order to keep everyone busy.

After a few days, the Weaseys moved in, too. They had been at Grimmauld Place the day of the attacks – Bill hand only just made it there before the Diagon Alley battle had started – and had found their house destroyed upon returning to it.

The Weasleys had stayed with Augusta Longbottom for a few days, but felt that they would want to stick together as a family now.

Mrs Longbottom refused to leave her family estate much to Minerva's dismay. Neville went to stay with her for a few days and tried to convince her to come to Hogwarts, but his grandmother remained stubborn. Now that her son was dead, she did not care any more what would happen to her.

Snape sent one message to Minerva the second day after the attacks. He told her that Voldemort had taken up residence in the former Ministry of Magic.

Snape apparently was in charge of clearing the place so that Voldemort could use it freely. Many of the rooms had sealed themselves when the Ministry building had been entered by force, and setting up their new Death Eater headquarters in the Ministry meant actually fighting the building first.

Snape had taken a great risk when he himself had increased the security around the sealed-off Department of Magical History, so that Voldemort could not yet access the places where historical relicts were kept. Hopefully, this would keep him from creating a new Horcrux in the near future.

Until the end of March, this was all they learned from Snape. Minerva was grateful for all the extra work at Hogwarts because it kept her from thinking about him too much.

She was tremendously worried. Frequently she went to Grimmauld Place to see if he had maybe left a message there, but there were no signs of life from Severus Snape.

Also, there were rumours of some serious fighting that had gone on within the former Ministry.

One Ministry worker who was an Animagus-in-training had been able to hide in the building for 3 days, disguised in his bird shape. He had allegedly told his family that Voldemort had killed several of his followers in a raging fury because the Ministry building fought back against the intruders.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

On March 30, late in the night a very confused and irritated Augusta Longbottom appeared at the Hogwarts gates. She wore nothing but her night clothes and a loose dressing gown, and clutched her wand and some rolled-up parchments. When Hagrid had finally escorted her to Minerva's office, she was frozen stiff.

Minerva placed her old friend in the armchair closest by the fire and wrapped her in a thin blanket. Hagrid went to fetch Neville.

"There you go." Minerva handed Neville's grandmother a cup of hot tea.

"Thank you," Augusta managed trough clattering teeth.

"Can you tell me what happened to you?"

Sneezing, Augusta Longbottom shook her head in disbelief. "I was as good as abducted from my house. That's what I though first, after all."

"You were attacked?" Minerva asked anxiously. "Are you alright? Should I call Poppy?"

"I am alright, I'm just cold. And I don't appreciate the fact that I just had to walk through that cold castle wearing nothing but my nightgown and with that Hagrid around. It's downright inappropriate, that's what it is. Couldn't you have come for me?"

"Do you want another blanket? And you can have some of my robes."

"Only if you spare me that tartan you're so fond of," Augusta said dryly.

Minerva laughed softly. She was glad to see Augusta Longbottom in a bad mood. Apparently her adventure had finally forced her to wake up from the stupor she had fallen into after her son's death.

"You do seem alright. But what happened to you?"

Someone knocked and Minerva got up. "And there is nothing wrong with tartan!" she added in mock reproachfulness while she opened her door.

Neville bust into the room, throwing his arms around his grandmother. Hagrid followed him.

"Gran! Are you okay?"

"She started criticising me the moment her teeth stopped clattering. She's fine," Minerva stated.

"Shut up, Kitty." Augusta actually smiled.

Neville's eyes had widened during the short dialogue. "Kitty," he repeated in a toneless voice, staring at his Headmistress.

"Mr Longbottom, for some reason your grandmother found it amusing to call me that when I started my Animagus training. If I ever find out this nickname is mentioned outside this room, I will hold you personally responsible."

Minerva McGonagall put on her best 'strict teacher' face.

Neville nodded, but he was so relieved to see his grandmother alright that he could not quite suppress a crooked grin. Remembering what his gran most likely expected of him, he offered the Headmistress the other fireside chair. Then he fetched another chair for himself and sat down next to his grandmother. Hagrid leaned against the mantelpiece behind Minerva.

"Augusta, what happened?" Minerva asked for a third time.

She was serious now. Their silly behaviour had been nothing but joyful overacting after being deathly scared.

Augusta Longbottom frowned. She now remembered again what she had felt like only half an hour ago.

"I was just about to go to bed. I tend to go to bed earlier these days… Well, anyway, I heard this noise down in the house and I took my wand and went to check. There was this man on the stairs. He had disarmed me before I could think. Didn't even say a word, my wand just flew to him."

She shuddered a little. Neville held took her hand and held it.

"Well, then this man came up to me and took me by the arm and said we had to leave. He asked me if one could disapparate in my house and I was so stunned, I told him yes – stupid me. And the next thing I know is we're standing in a forest somewhere."

"This forest here?" Minerva asked in alarm. "You apparated on Hogwarts grounds?"

"No, just outside it. I recognised it then. We were close to the path to Hogsmeade."

She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the memory. "I wanted to break free and shout for help but he just held me and said he'd silence me if I wasn't quiet. And he did not seem the kind of person who would joke about it, if you take my meaning. We went to the edge of the forest and there he stopped. I think he didn't want to be seen."

"Do you know who the man was?" Neville asked.

"No. He was all dressed in black. Black hair, too."

Minerva drew in a sharp breath. Hagrid stirred behind her, too.

"Tall, thin sort of fellow? Looks like he always is in a bad mood? Big nose?" he asked.

"Pale face, black eyes?" Minerva added.

"Exactly!" Augusta Longbottom was surprised. "Do you know him?"

"That sounds like Snape!" Neville exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

"Can't have been," Augusta said. "This man was scary, but no Death Eater. I think he saved me from something."

"What do you mean?"

"There at the edge of the forest, he pointed to Hogwarts and told me to go there. He said I was to hurry, and I'd be save there. Gave me my wand back and pushed me to go forward. Oh, I forgot – the parchments!"

She looked around and found she had placed the papers on the small tea table. They all had forgotten about them.

"He pulled these parchments out of his robes and gave them to me. I wanted to see what they were but he immediately got angry and told me there was no time for that – pushed me forward and told me to stop fussing around. He said I should hurry and see that I get into Hogwarts and give you the parchments."

"Show them to me, please." Minerva said excitedly.

She unrolled the parchments in her lap. Hagrid looked at them over her shoulder. The larger parchment appeared to be some kind of map or building plan. Parts of it were drawn in dark red. Minerva gasped.

"I have seen copies of this, but this is the original. It's the Ministry Map."

"The one we copied for, you know, the corridor?" Hagrid asked.

"Yes. Look, the original changes depending what level you want to see. And it shows you the current state of the building, even if somebody rebuilds or changes parts."

She took the second paper, which was really just a small sheet of notepaper that had been rolled up in the bigger map. It was a hastily scribbled message, much like the one that ragged little owl had delivered:

_Ministry Map shows in red those parts he cannot access yet._

_Longbottom residence will be raided tonight - don't go there!_

_Will come to see you soon._

"So he's alive," Hagrid said.

"Thank goodness!" Minerva felt as if a heave weight had been taken from her shoulders. She looked up and saw Augusta and Neville watching her curiously. A glance at her clock told her the time. Half past one… well, this was important.

"Hagrid? Could you please go and wake the others? Bring them here. I think we will admit two more members into the Order tonight, now that they know part of the story anyway. And I want to know what Arthur says to this map as soon as possible."

Hagrid hurried away. Minerva turned to face the Longbottoms again.

"Augusta," she said slowly. "The man you met tonight was indeed Severus Snape. And he most likely saved your life."

Augusta stared blankly. For once in her life, she seemed not to know what to say. Neville, standing next to her, placed his hand protectively on her shoulder.

"Does that mean what we all thought is not true? Snape is not Professor Dumbledore's murderer?"

"No, unfortunately this is true," Minerva sighed. "I will explain. But first – quite a few people will be here in a few minutes. Would you like some of my robes? I do have some plain ones."

A few minutes later, it was actually Hermione who did all the explaining. Augusta Longbottom (wearing Minerva's plain dark green robes) and Neville had lots of questions, and Hermione did her best to summarise everything that had happened during the past months. Just when she had finally convinced the others that they did indeed consider Snape their trustworthy spy, Harry interrupted them and they got into the classical argument about trust and loyalty… really, the two Longbottoms right away got a very precise impression of the way the Order acted.

Arthur Weasley was all excited about the map. He explained that this plan always showed what state the Ministry building currently was in. If Voldemort added any new entrances, for example, or had parts of the building blocked up, they would be able to see it right away.

It seemed that in the lower parts of the building extensive changes had already been made. Some floors looked like a row of apartments; others far below the earth looked more like dungeons and prison cells. A large room close to the entrance hall was now labelled 'audience hall'. It looked almost as if Voldemort tried to convert the building into a court-like residence for himself and his inner circle.

The parts of the building that were marked in red still were sealed. The History Department was amongt them, as well as the Department of Mysteries, and several archives which contained information on the British wizarding society. The Law Enforcement Department had however been forced open already.

"This map is just wonderful," Arthur explained. "I have no idea how Severus could have smuggled it out. You see, there is only this one. You cannot copy it – or rather, you can always copy only a part of it, and it will not change like the original. With this thing in our hands, we will always know what You-Know-Who is up to and how far he progresses in the building. It's like having a surveillance camera."

"It doesn't show people, though?" Lupin asked. "Like the Maurauder's Map does?"

"No. It shows the building, and how the building's magic is affected."

"That is a lot, really. The Ministry building keeps changing itself like Hogwarts does. With this map, we know more about it that the Death Eaters do," Tonks said. "And we will see if he gets to those relics he wants for new Horcruxes."

"Right," Moody said. "And should we ever wish to go there, it shows us where to find him." He pointed to the audience hall.

Arthur Weasley nodded. "We should check this map every day to see how things come along."

He stifled a yawn. "Mrs Longbottom? I will go and check on your house first thing in the morning. I hope there will be no serious damage."

They went to bed soon after that. Everyone returned to their dormitories or private quarters, only Augusta Longbottom stayed with Minerva. The old friends stayed up until early in the morning, talking about Neville and the way he had developed.

Minerva was glad to have her school-time friend with her. Augusta had finally snapped out of the helplessness that she had felt after Frank's death.

Unfortunately, the next morning proved that the Longbottom house had been burned down. Augusta Longbottom had too openly sided with Dumbledore in the past, just like the Weasleys had done. Lord Voldemort's reign of terror had truly begun.

Augusta moved into her own rooms at Hogwarts.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sometime during the first week of April, Augusta and Minerva sat chatting in front of the fireplace in her living room. The set of chess lay forgotten on the small table between them. Although they had stayed in touch from their childhood days on, they had a lot of catching up to do and spent much of time together now.

They had first shared their thoughts on Neville, and then with their re-established intimacy moved on to the topic of losing friends and family. Frank's death had been a terrible ordeal for Augusta, even though her son had not been himself for seventeen years now.

During these conversations, Minerva became aware that she had never really had the time to mourn for Dumbledore. She felt guilty admitting it, but the feeling most prominent now in her mind was anger.

When she had finally accepted that Dumbledore had died according to his own wishes, she had also started to wonder why he had not told her of this plan.

Had he, after all, not trusted her? Hadn't she been his best friend? It took her some effort to voice those thoughts, but she realised that she could tell Augusta about the matter. The two friends had finally found someone to share their mourning.

It was well past midnight now. Augusta Longbottom yawned and stretched.

"It's good to have these talks again."

"It's just like in our school days," Minerva smiled. "Staying up all night and confessing our feelings."

"I wonder why we ever stopped doing it." Augusta yawned once more.

Minerva raised one of her eyebrows. "If I remember correctly, that was because after school, you didn't really approve of my private life."

"Kitty's love life, you mean. Yes, I suppose that's right."

"Was I that bad, really?"

Augusta considered the question for a moment. "I think by modern standards, no."

"And by your standards?"

"You know I believe in marriage. Marry the one you love and stick with him all your life."

"Did you really never love anyone but your husband? He died almost 40 years ago."

"And I still miss him. It's what I believe in. One love for life, not many affairs."

"So that is why we drifted apart. I thought so back then, but didn't want to ask you."

Augusta smiled apologetically. "Maybe it is better that you didn't. I was very conservative back then. Now I find your decisions more understandable."

"You do?" Minerva was genuinely surprised.

"Well…"Augusta carefully tried to say the right thing. "Compared to you, I was lucky. I fell in love with a man of my own age. You picked someone 80 years older - I suppose that does make things more complicated."

"Oh yes, it did."

"If you don't mind me asking, did you ever tell him?"

"Yes. Twice. First when I was seventeen…"

"Minerva!"

"…and then again, oh, maybe 30 or 35 years ago."

"And?"

"He said no. That I was too young, that I was his former student, that it was inappropriate. Today I think he was right."

"But see, that's what I meant. For all your life, you were in love with a man who was… Well, let's just say it was not right to love him. And down in your heart, you knew that. That's why you had those affairs – you tried to look for someone else."

"Maybe. I never considered it from that point of view."

"See, back then, I only saw my friend who had affairs and would not get married. Today, I somewhat understand where all that behaviour came from."

Minerva pondered the matter for a while. "I don't know. Maybe you're on to something there. But you are wrong in saying that I loved Albus all my life."

"The way you spoke of him before made me think so. You very much cared for that man until his dying day."

"I did. He was my best friend. But I honestly stopped _loving_ him a long time ago."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"Don't you think I would know my own feelings?"

Augusta smiled. "You told me maybe two hours ago that I ought to wake up and realise how proud I really am of Neville. Sometimes we do seem not to know our feelings."

"Well, I am sure I know mine," Minerva replied somewhat crossly.

"The let me re-phrase my question." Augusta said. "Mmm… let's see. Now, _after_ you stopped loving Dumbledore - was there another man whom you loved with the same passion that you had felt for him? Maybe even more passion?"

"Yes."

Augusta watched at her quizzically, and then started giggling like a girl. Minerva looked at her with consternation.

"Now what's so funny?"

"You blushed!"

"I did not!"

"Oh, you did, believe me. I am sorry about teasing you. I didn't know this new love was such a… recent development."

"Don't get any wrong ideas. There is no new affair I could tell you about." Minerva was firm.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh, alright. I suppose I still nourish that hope to see you married some day."

"That is highly unlikely."

Augusta yawned again. "I think I'll go to bed."

Just in that moment, someone knocked at the office door.

"Yes?" Minerva called. A moment later, Snape entered her rooms.

"Severus! It's good to see you again." Minerva exclaimed.

"Mrs Longbottom – Minerva," he greeted them, bowing his head politely.

"So you are Severus Snape?" Augusta got up from her armchair. "Come closer, young man. I've been wanting to meet you for years."

Snape seemed rather taken aback with the 'young man', but obeyed. Minerva allowed herself a little smile. She had seen a spark of amusement in his eyes.

August Longbottom drew herself up to full height. She mustered the man in front of her from head to foot.

"So you are the one my grandson was terrified of. I must say that you don't look like a pleasant person."

"Thank you."

Augusta frowned. "I certainly did not mean that as a compliment. The way you treated Neville was awful. I don't know why Dumbledore never put a stop to that. I kept sending him howlers about it."

"The Headmaster had no reason to tell me off. Other people did that for him."

"Wipe that smirk off your face!" She grew impatient and turned to Minerva. "Is he always that impertinent?"

"I am afraid so." Minerva rather enjoyed the show.

"I think I understand now. Neville always told me that you had the most awful quarrels with this Professor Snape."

Augusta turned back to Snape, who still watched her with mild interest. "All the same, Professor Snape, I have to thank you. I understand you saved my life that night."

The smirk disappeared from Snape's face.

"I had to abduct you like that. There was no time for explanations," he said seriously. "I apparated back to your house immediately, and it was in flames already."

Augusta nodded. "I quite understand it was necessary to hurry. Thank you for saving me."

She paused for a moment, lost in her memories of that night. Then she smiled vaguely at Minerva. "Goodnight, Minerva. I suppose you will have to discuss several things concerning the Order – you haven't seen each other in weeks, have you?"

"Yes. Goodnight, Augusta. Sleep well."

Minerva sat down again and watched Snape escort Augusta Longbottom to the door, which he locked once she was outside. He settled down in the seat Augusta had just vacated.

"She didn't seem surprised to see me."

"No. We told her and Neville everything that night. They know not to spread the news of your visits here."

"Good. I didn't know the two of you were such close friends."

"Really it's an old friendship warmed up again. We just talked about that; about why our friendship drifted apart."

"I know. I have to admit I did some eavesdropping before I knocked."

"Severus!"

"You happened to speak about Dumbledore just when I arrived and – well, it was too interesting," he said earnestly.

"Well, would you please not do that again!" she barked. "Even though I suppose that you heard nothing you didn't already know. I really don't appreciate of such behaviour."

Snape hesitated for a few seconds before he carefully asked, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course you can ask. Whether I'll answer depends on the kind of question." She still was angry with him.

"Fair enough," he replied. Then he said seriously, "Would it make any difference for you if you learned that Dumbledore loved you?"

She closed her eyes and thought for a moment.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I know that he did indeed love you," Snape said quietly, not looking at her.

"In his last years, you mean? He certainly never showed that."

"He was careful not to show it. Does knowing it make a difference for you?"

"You mean now, in this very moment?"

"Yes."

"No… " she considered. "No, it does not make a difference. Not any more. There was a time in my life when it would have made all the difference in the world, but that was a long time ago." She stopped herself in time before adding 'and you should damn well know that.'

Snape stared into the flames, absent-mindedly watching the fire-salamanders on the logs.

"It might be better if we talked of something else," Minerva said resolutely. "We are crossing a line here."

"You are right," he agreed, looking her into the eyes again.

"Tell me, how come this place is suddenly swarming with people out of bed? It wasn't easy to get to your rooms unseen."

"We have almost 130 new children here, some only 3 years old. The prefects and some other students take turns watching them during the night, and they move between the dormitories."

"I would have thought that parents want their children home with them in those times."

"Those who are still alive do think so." She smiled bitterly.

"Many of our students have gone home. These new children are orphans, mostly. Younger brothers and sisters of Hogwarts students who have come to live with the only family they have left."

They sat in silence for a minute, each of them recalling the horrors of the battles.

"Where were you when - ?" They had spoken at the same time.

"You first," he said.

"Grimmauld Place. The twins wanted to store some things from their shop there and we were all going to have dinner together. Bill Weasley only just made it there. And you?"

"With the Dark Lord. In the old Riddle house. We went to see the battle places in the evening." He hesitated for a moment. "I found Shacklebolt. He's dead."

"I know. One of his co-workers escaped and told his family."

Snape nodded slowly. "I have one piece of good news for you. Well, half-good at least."

"Yes?"

"Percy Weasley. He is alive."

"Thank goodness!"

"He is alive, but he is not well. The Dark Lord knows nothing about the Weasleys' family problems. Percy was submitted to serious torture."

"The poor boy!"

"He will be released soon. I have convinced the Dark Lord that Percy should be placed under Imperius and return to his family. He is to be a spy at Hogwarts."

"I understand."

"I will use the Imperius Curse on him personally. And I will make him do a few things to prove the curse works properly – this is not going to be a pleasant experience for Weasley. You will have to 'find out' and release him from the curse after he arrives here. Let him write one or two messages to the Dark Lord. The more peculiar he acts here, the more understandable it will be that his family finds out about the curse and releases him."

"Of course."

"And then there's Draco Malfoy. Now that most of us stay in the Ministry building, I might be able to get him out somehow. But if I do, you will have to hide him and his mother here."

"They are welcome here."

"Don't say that too openly. The Dark Lord's forces were able to overthrow the Ministry. His next step is either Azkaban or Hogwarts. Please don't give him a reason to go after Hogwarts soon."

She nodded. "If Draco arrives here, I will make sure that his presence does not become common knowledge."

"There is not much else that I can tell you tonight. The Dark Lord builds his castle, as you will have seen. He is happy at the moment – everyone is scared of him, there is no government any more, his reign has only just begun. But it's good for us that he is content for now."

"We will have to train Harry for a confrontation with him. If the prophecy is true."

"Don't tell me you haven't started that already."

"Of course we have. It's defending against Dark Arts and Occlumency lessons and non-verbal spell training for him all day. I meant the psychological aspect. If you told me I'd have to face You-Know-Who tomorrow, I'd feel ready as for my abilities. But I still wouldn't know how to start it. It's the same with Harry. He is mentally not ready for the fight. None of us are."

"Including me," Snape admitted. He got up from his seat.

"I'd better leave. Do you think I could borrow Moody's cloak? With all those students in the corridors, it really is not safe for me here."

"I'll go and ask him. He's awake tonight, patrolling the corridors."

Minerva got up from her seat. Just before she left the room, she turned around again and smiled shyly at Snape.

"I am so glad to see you alive - " she said, her heart beating fast. Quickly she left the room so he would not see her blush again.

It took some coaxing and persuading, but in the end Mood finally agreed to lend his precious Invisibility Cloak to Snape – not just for that night, but to keep for any further visits. Although he would never allow himself to be caught admitting it, even Moody had finally given in and considered Snape loyal to the Order of the Phoenix. Minerva brought the cloak back to her office where Snape waited for her, still sitting by the fireside.

Snape disappeared under the cloak and Minerva accompanied him outside. Just as he had done the last time, Snape kept close enough to her that she could feel his cloak brush against her robes and thus sense where he was. They did not dare to speak lest somebody would notice his presence that way.

Outside, she felt an invisible hand squeeze hers for a goodbye, no longer than one second. Then she heard his steps hurrying away.

For a long time she remained standing outside the front doors, staring into the cold darkness that surrounded her.


	8. Acceptance

From then on, Snape visited Hogwarts regularly again. They hardly ever used Grimmauld Place any more, because all the remaining active members of the Order lived at Hogwarts anyway. With Moody's Invisibility Cloak, Snape was free to move within the castle. Usually he knocked at Minerva's door every few days, and they would then call those members who were awake and not on patrolling duty to attend their meetings.

Minerva made sure that Harry and Snape spent as much time as possible together. Both of them felt uncomfortable with it, but they seemed to have reached some unspoken agreement. They had understood that Snape probably was the only person who could truly prepare Harry for a final fight with Voldemort.

Snape himself had had quite a career among the Death Eaters. After Dumbledore's death and his reaction at Merope Gaunt's grave, Voldemort seemed to trust him completely. Snape had also seen to it that the work on the Ministry building never ceased - so far, no one had realised that he himself had cast all the additional protective spells which slowed the progress, and only his 'hard efforts' in clearing the building were recognised by the other Death Eaters.

Voldemort came to rely on Snape for missions that required travelling, mostly, he used him to spy on other Death Eaters, or on people in Hogsmeade and around Hogwarts. The positive effect of this was that Voldemort himself had thus created the excuse for Snape spending much time unguarded by fellow Death Eaters, and close to Hogwarts. Gradually, Snape found out that Voldemort did not even care whether he spent the nights in his rooms in the Ministry building, as long as he reported to his master every day.

Much to everyone's relief, Percy Weasley appeared at Hogwarts in the second week of April, just as Snape had predicted. Percy was deeply shaken by his experiences and more than glad make up with his family. Molly Weasley cried with happiness for a whole day. Even the twins seemed moved.

The next time Snape visited Hogwarts, Molly threw herself at him, sobbing an apology about how she could ever not have trusted him. Snape appeared rather embarrassed with the scene.

As for their personal relationship, Minerva was not quite sure what to think of him. Her love for him had, if possible, increased with the time passing. Nevertheless she firmly believed this love to be wrong and tried to ignore what her heart told her. It was harder to judge Snape's state of mind.

When any of the others were around, he showed polite respect. His conduct made perfectly clear that he considered her the Head of the Order and thus his superior. They would disagree once in a while, but open fights like the ones they had had as fellow teachers did not occur any more (much to the dismay of the Weasley twins, who had always considered these arguments excellent entertainment).

When Snape and Minerva were alone, his behaviour usually became a little less detached, but this was nothing unusual. He had always shown his friendship only when they were by themselves. For the most part, he acted as if nothing emotional had ever taken place between them, in full accordance to their agreement.

Yet, there were moments when he seemed out of character. He would occasionally touch her in a gentle, caressing way – usually taking her hand or stroking her arm when saying goodbye. She wondered often if he even was aware of these absent-minded gestures. These caresses seemed something Snape would never do intentionally.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Another three weeks passed. On the night from Thursday to Friday, Minerva returned to her rooms around three a.m. – she had done her patrolling duty; Tonks would take over for the rest of the night. Minerva was glad that Tonks and Lupin both lived at Hogwarts. While Lupin was the kind of calm, reassuring teacher that the older children needed to look up to, Tonks was great with the little children.

She could entertain them for hours, making the kids forget the horrors they had witnessed in the past few months. Also she had become somewhat of an older sister for Hermione and Ginny, who spent much time with her guarding the little ones. Minerva had the impression that this was especially good for Hermione, who had appeared somewhat preoccupied during the last few days. Maybe she had quarrelled with Ron Weasley.

When Minerva entered her living room, she found Snape sitting in one of the fireside chairs. She had not expected him, as he had reported to them only the day before, giving them some information on a newly created werewolf community very close to Hogsmeade.

He stared into the fire which had almost burned down. Other than those last few flames, there was no light in the room. Snape did not react when she entered, crossed the room and sat down in the other armchair.

"Severus?" she asked softly.

He continued to gaze at the last burning log. She noticed his eyes were bloodshot. Carefully stroking his arm, she called him again.

"Narcissa and Draco Malfoy are dead," he finally said hoarsely. "My fault."

"What happened?" she demanded gently.

He shrugged. "I as good as killed them, that's what happened. Had I not talked to Draco yesterday they would still be alive."

Minerva moved closer and knelt down beside his chair. She took his right hand into both of hers, squeezing it carefully.

"I tried to talk to Draco a couple of times in the last two weeks. Thought he trusted me a bit. Yesterday I decided I'd risk it. I told him he was not cut out to be a Death Eater. I told him that the Dark Lord never allows one to run away from his services, but that if Draco really wanted to get away, I could probably arrange for him and his mother to go to some place save. I said I would do this as a repayment because his father had always aided me. - And I thought that he believed me."

Snape snorted. "Bellatrix has taught him too well. I couldn't enter his mind without him noticing."

"He didn't believe you?"

"Oh, he did believe I could arrange for his escape. He didn't believe my reasons."

Snape swallowed, then he continued in a throaty voice. "While I came to see you yesterday, that stupid boy thought he'd show what a loyal servant he was to the Dark Lord. He went to see him and told him that I was the spy everybody was looking for."

"What!" Minerva felt her heart skip one beat.

"Alectro told me about it later. The Dark Lord had several of the others assembled, and in walks Draco and tells them he knows that I am the spy. - Draco had no idea that he himself was a suspect. Alectro said the situation was so unreal, even Bellatrix laughed at him first. They thought Draco was trying to be funny. And when they realised that he was dead serious, the Dark Lord grew angry. Very angry."

"So he didn't believe Draco?"

"Not at all -" Snape sneered in his familiar manner. "He thought that was the ultimate proof that Draco himself was the spy and that this whole thing was some idiotic manoeuvre to distract the others from suspecting him. Alectro said the Dark Lord actually told Draco that he knew I was his most trustful servant…"

He shuddered. "When I returned last night, they were already torturing him. Cruciatus certainly isn't the only nasty curse there is."

"What about Narcissa?" Minerva asked gently, but Snape monotonously continued recollecting the events as if he had not heard her.

"I had to watch. I had to watch the whole thing and pretend I enjoyed it. They thought it would amuse me to see that him die, just because he had had the cheek to suspect me. Draco died sometime this morning. It was simply too much for his body. And that moment, when he lay there, not moving any more… something in Narcissa broke.

She has been a coward all her life, but this morning she turned around and tried to kill the Dark Lord. It was madness. She stood there, aiming at him, with maybe twenty Death Eaters around her. She was dead before she'd raised her wand properly. Her own sister stopped her."

"The poor woman…" Minerva whispered. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and concentrated hard on not imagining Draco's final moments.

Snape at last took his eyes off the dying fire and looked at the woman kneeling next to him.

"Tell me what to do now. I can't stand this any longer," he said in a low voice. "I murdered Dumbledore so that these two could live. And now they are dead because of my mistakes."

"You saved other lives. Don't blame yourself for this. You tried to help Draco. He correctly realised what side you are on – but he didn't take this chance to save his mother and himself. He decided to stay on that Dark Side. No one but he himself is to blame for the consequences."

Snape laughed bitterly. He got up from the chair and walked up and down in her living room.

"I've been trying to convince myself of that ever since this morning. So far, it hasn't worked."

"But it's true." She also stood up. "Severus, these two died. But you saved so many others. Don't forget them."

He stopped his pacing and leaned against the windowsill, watching her in the warm glow by the fireside. She stood there patiently, waiting for him to reply.

"Minerva, I cannot stand it any more. I cannot stand the cruelty, the torturing, the killing… These things will haunt me for the rest of my life."

"I know," she said quietly.

He paused, still watching her slim figure in the red light of the last embers. "Do you? Do you _know_ that? Few would believe it possible."

She mustered him in the weak light, or rather, tried to. With him hiding in the dark shadows and the dying fire right next to her, she could hardly make out his pallid face.

"Severus, there is no use in denying that cruelty is part of your nature. You _are_ a sadistic man. But I do know that there is a line you cannot cross. You are cruel, but not altogether evil. Some of the things you witness there are bound to haunt you."

Snape smiled grimly. "No romantic notion would ever lead you to misjudging my character."

She made some apologetic gesture, unsure what to say. Out of the darkness, she could feel Snape's gaze more than she saw it.

"I know I should be able to stand it all, I know I am expected to. But I cannot. Not any more. There is nothing to make up for all this torture. There is nothing to live for."

"What do you mean? Severus, I don' like this."

His desperation scared her. From what she recalled, Snape has always valued his own life only very little. What was he implying now?

Snape exhaled slowly, as if forcefully trying to calm himself.

"Do you know how I survived this morning? How I prevented myself from going insane?" His voice was all bitterness again.

She quietly shook her head.

"I thought of you. The one idea that kept me sane was the knowledge that I could come here, sit by your fireside, and you'd comfort me. The one thought that that I held on to was that I'd always have you to return to."

"But of course." Swiftly, she went to the window where he stood.

"No."

He took her by the shoulders and held her away from him.

"That is just what I thought about when I was waiting for you earlier. I don't have you to return to. You do not belong to me."

Slowly, he let go of her. Minerva saw his dark eyes glittering in the dim light. When he continued, his voice was barely audible.

"I told you that love you, Minerva. I don't care about an age difference or any of these other principles. I need you. I want to have you."

With a slow, steady motion, he pulled her closer. She could have broken away anytime, but didn't. Finally, he kissed her hard on the mouth.

"This is madness," she whispered when they broke apart. "This is so wrong."

"I know," he replied, immediately kissing her again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At dawn, Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, awoke on the floor in front of her fireplace. She found herself sleeping on a mass of cluttered clothes. Snape lay next to her, fully awake. He had drawn his robes as a blanket over both of them and had rekindled the fire. Seeing her open her eyes, he smiled.

"Good morning."

"Mmm. Morning," she mumbled sleepily. Slowly, understanding of what had happened in the past two hours sank in.

"I don't believe this."

"You'd better," Snape almost grinned. He stroked her hair gently, playing with the strands. "First time I see you with your hair in a mess."

"Seeing my hair undone comes as more of a surprise than seeing me naked?"

He got up slowly. "I suppose both events seemed equally unlikely."

Minerva got up, too, and quickly wrapped herself in her robes. Now that it grew light in the room, she began to feel conscious of her not-so-young body again. Snape did not look at her while he dressed. When he was ready, he picked up the Invisibility Cloak and turned to her again.

"I have to leave."

"I know. What time is it?"

"About five to six. We've slept for only about an hour."

She nodded and stretched. Her whole body was aching. The situation was so absurd that she felt increasingly uneasy. Snape, on the other hand, seemed perfectly calm. He took her chin with his right hand and observed her face closely.

"What is it?" he inquired.

"Doesn't this feel strange to you?" Much to her own anger, she felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

"No," he decided. "This feels good. Very unusual, but good."

He kissed her slowly and she felt a wave of relief. Maybe this could work out after all.

After Snape had left, there was no point in going to bed for the rest of the night – she usually got up at half past six anyway. Minerva showered, dressed for the day and went down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast. Some of the prefects who took care of the younger children were there already, and Professors Flitwick and Sinistra sat at the staff table. Hermione Granger sat at the Gryffindor table, looking pale. Minerva stopped on her way to the staff table.

"Miss Granger? Were you on duty last night?"

Hermione looked up startled. Buried in her Daily Prophet, she had obviously not heard the Headmistress approaching.

"Morning, Professor. No, Ron checked on the little ones last night. Did anything happen?"

"No, I just thought you looked a bit tired. Are you alright? You are pale."

Hermione shrugged defiantly. "I feel fine. And if you don't mind me saying so, you look rather pale, too."

Too tired to argue with Hermione, Minerva decided to ignore that remark. "I was on patrolling duty last night. And – " she lowered her voice so they would not be overheard by the few students around, "I received a very sad message last night. Draco Malfoy and his mother are dead."

"How?" Hermione whispered, but stopped dead when two yawning Gryffindor girls sat down at the table. "I'll tell the others," she simply said.

Glancing at the students, Minerva shook her head.

"I will see to that, Miss Granger. And if you could come to my office this afternoon, at four o´clock – there are matters concerning the pre-school lessons I should like to discuss with you and some others."

Hermione nodded. They would be able to discuss Draco at the Order meeting this afternoon.


	9. The Love Lives of Witches

Minerva retreated into her rooms immediately after dinner that Friday evening. She felt overly tired, and very confused. There was sadness because of Draco's fate competing with happiness because of the events that had followed it.

The Order meeting that afternoon had, of course, shaken everyone. Minerva had related the facts as if she had received a message from Snape instead of a personal visit. There had not been much of a discussion, the news of Draco and Narcissa Malfoy's deaths had again made them realise how helpless they were against Lord Voldemort's regime.

Now, all Minerva wanted to do was sip a cup of chocolate before going to bed. She settled into her favourite wing chair and recapitulated the events of the past 24 hours. While all her day had been taken up with school work and the sad business of delivering the bad news, she now had time to reconsider what else had taken place the previous night.

With a rather wicked smile, she wondered what the house-elves might have thought about finding her undergarments in front of the fireplace – well, they were instructed not to talk about her private rooms.

Minerva stretched and cuddled into a blanket, resting her feet by the fireside. The cosy warmth made her sleepy, and due to the lack of sleep from the previous night she soon dozed off. Quite some time later, she woke up startled when someone knocked at her office door.

Opening it, Minerva found a very pale Hermione Granger standing in front of it, trembling from head to toe. Her hair was a mess, and she looked as if she had been crying for some time.

"Miss Granger! What happened?"

"I – I was just wondering if I could talk to you for a moment, Professor," Hermione said, in a rather shaky voice.

Noticing the alarmed look on Minerva's face, she added, "No, no, I mean it's nothing – nothing _evil _that has happened. There's no one hurt or anything like that."

"Then what is it, Miss Granger? Won't you come in?"

"Yes – no." Hermione sobbed again. "I am sorry, Professor, I shouldn't have come. It's just something – personal. I - I should have known you would immediately think something serious must have happened. I am so sorry I worried you."

She turned around and hurried back to the stairs.

"Miss Granger!" Minerva used her sternest teacher voice.

"Do turn around and come in here right now. Judging by the look on your face, 'something serious' _has_ happened, and now that you have come to see me I should like to know what it is."

Hermione obeyed. Her face was scarlet now. Minerva motioned for her to walk through the office into her private living room behind it. Whatever this was about, she felt that Hermione needed not to be interrogated by her sitting behind the Headmistress' desk.

"Do sit down by the fire," she said, employing a kinder voice now and gesturing for Hermione to sit down in an armchair. "Would you like a cup of chocolate?"

Hermione nodded helplessly; obviously unable to speak for the moment. She took her chocolate and started drinking it in small sips.

Minerva took her seat in the other armchair again and watched Hermione for a minute or so. The girl seemed both relieved and petrified to be in Minerva's private quarters.

"Hermione?" she asked as soothingly as possible. "I have found that when one dreads to say something, it usually is best to get it over with as quickly as possible. Why did you come to see me?"

Hermione nodded. Her face had turned pale again, and she was shaking a little; bracing herself for what was to come.

"Professor – I think I might be pregnant."

There was a moment of silence and Hermione looked as though she was expecting hell to break loose any second now.

Minerva cleared her throat. "I see. Naturally, this must be very disturbing for you."

"You're not angry with me?" Hermione whispered, astonished.

"No, girl, I am not angry. I am worried, of course. But I am not angry."

"I thought you would be."

"Don't you think that my state of mind should be about the least of your problems if you are pregnant indeed?" Minerva asked with a slightly amused look on her face.

Hermione actually smiled uncertainly. "No, I suppose you're right, Professor. I just don't know what to do."

"Then let's sort this out a little, shall we?"

Hermione nodded vaguely.

"Now, first of all: are you sure you're pregnant?"

"No. I just thought I might be."

"Then I presume you have missed your period."

"Yes." Hermione spoke with a little more confidence now that she could cling to facts."I am four days late. For me, that's very late, it's always been very regular with me."

"Have you had it for a long time now?"

"More than five years. Always regular." The panic in Hermione's voice increased again.

"So we do know only that you might or might not be pregnant. If you are, how far along could you be?"

Red blotches appeared on Hermione's cheeks, but she kept a straight face.

"Six days only. – That's too early to tell by Muggle tests, and I did not find anything in the library if there were any special magical ways of testing and…" She broke off, clearly embarrassed.

"A skilled healer, like Madam Pomfrey for example, could find out quite early – after about ten days, I should say. But if you're sure about those six days, it's too early for her to tell."

Now the blush reached Hermione's ears, too, leaving them in a bright shade of pink. Some tears streamed down her face again.

"I am sure. The last time – before that I mean – the last time before now, I had my period afterwards," she mumbled.

Minerval left her alone for maybe half a minute, sipping on her own chocolate now. Then she looked Hermione directly in the face.

"Miss Granger? Look at me."

Hermione bravely raised her face.

"That's better. Now, before we go on, I want you to know two things. First of all, I rather take it as a compliment that you came to talk to me. You're not the first Hogwarts student in this situation, but you are the first one who came to see me. They usually seek help from Madam Pomfrey."

Hermione looked a little relieved. "I would not even have thought of going to see Madam Pomfrey. I mean, she's nice and all, but I trust you."

"Like I said, I do take it as a compliment." Minerva smiled.

"Now, the second thing I was going to tell you: We are having this little chat here because you've started bringing yourself into what is commonly called 'adult situations'. You've obviously decided you are grown-up enough to have a sexual relationship. Act on it. One is old enough to have sex when one is old enough not to be embarrassed about it."

Hermione straightened up. "Yes, Professor."

"Good. So now that we have decided we are two adult witches who can openly discuss the topic of sexual relationships, I suggest we talk about what you could possibly do now."

"Yes. Er, Professor – you just said I am not the first?"

"Of course you're not. When one has a couple of hundred teenagers caged together for ten months a year, some things are bound to happen sooner or later. However, you should be aware that sexual relationships amongst students are strictly against the school rules. I have to inform you that every pregnant Hogwarts student has been expelled for the time of her pregnancy – as have the fathers, if they were known."

"Expelled?" Hermione's eyes widened.

"Yes. Of course, the situation is a little different now. You are safer here in the castle than with your Muggle parents. But normally, I could not keep you here."

"I wouldn't ask you to."

"I know you wouldn't, Hermione. I just wanted to tell you the basic facts. Now, as I see it, there are three possible outcomes of this situation: First, that this may be a false alert and that you are not pregnant after all."

"I so hope that!"

Minerva nodded. "Second, that you are indeed pregnant and will have the child. In this case, you will obviously have to make a number of other decisions – about your parents, about your relationship with the father, where you would have the child and so on."

"Yes..."

"And there is possibility number three, that you are pregnant indeed, but are not going to have the child."

"Not have the baby?"

"I understand that in Muggle medicine there are ways to… to relieve a pregnant woman of a child she does not want. Same goes for our branch of medicine. It is legal, even though it is not a common practice in the wizarding world. But it's certainly not unheard of, especially when the mother is very young."

"I don't know whether I'd want to do this."

"I am certainly not telling you to do it. We are only discussion options. It is your decision alone – well, not quite. I believe you should discuss your situation with the potential father."

Hermione fell silent again; she seemed deep in thought. Minerva rose and looked out of the window. Outside, it now was pitch black – a glance at her clock on the mantelpiece told her it was well past midnight now. Minerva stifled a yawn; she did not want to show how exhausted she felt.

Hermione was staring into the flames of the fire. She looked tired and scared, but a lot calmer than before. Minerva took the blanket – tartan, of course – from the back of her chair and put it around Hermione's shoulders.

"You look cold even with the fire."

"I am. Thank you, Professor."

Minerva hesitated for a moment, but then she said slowly, "You might want to reconsider if you wish to call me 'Professor' all the time. Naturally I shall insist on it during classes. But the members of the Order of the Phoenix are on first name terms usually."

Hermione looked up in surprise. "Really?"

"There are other former students who have become friends and call me by my name."

Actually, Minerva herself did not really know why she had suggested this. Maybe because Hermione reminded her so much of herself in that age, or maybe simply because she was overtired and confused with her own emotions.

"_Former_ students," Hermione stressed.

"It's up to you."

"I'd like that – Minerva." Hermione obviously had to force herself to say that name, but she did seem to like it. "I'd like being your friend."

She smiled and drank some more of the chocolate. Then she started staring into the fire again. Minerva settled into the other chair once more.

"I may be wrong, but I have the feeling there is something else on your mind."

"It's nothing in particular. I just have so many questions I keep asking myself with – with my situation now. And I have no one to turn to. Except, obviously, you right now. But I can't keep you up all night with my worries."

Hermione put her cup away and made to rise from her chair.

"I don't see why not," Minerva said.

"Professor? Em, Minerva, I mean."

"I don't see why you could not, as you just put it, keep me up all night with your worries. I don't think I shall sleep very much after what you told me. And although you look tired, I also don't think you would sleep too much, either. I suggest you stay a little longer and we will talk some more about whatever there is on your mind."

"That's very kind of you."

"Girl, I do know exactly how you feel. It's a wicked situation, thinking one might be pregnant and not knowing who to turn to."

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at Minerva, who suppressed a smile and waited for the girl to take the bait.

Hermione did.

"Have you –" She broke off, looking into the fire again. Then suddenly she looked her Headmistress directly in the eyes and spoke up.

"You said we should be able to talk about these matters in a grown-up way. As friends. No being embarrassed and suchlike. Doesn't that mean I get to ask you questions, too?"

When she saw the smirk on Minerva's face, she grew scared with her own courage.

"Ahm, of course I don't mean I should want to ask you intimate things. I mean just, well, ahm, sharing experience and such."

Some pink appeared on her cheeks again, but she kept forcing herself to hold Minerva's gaze. The elder witch allowed her smile to grow broader. 'That's the spirit,' she thought. 'Do get angry, face the facts. You're having sex, stop acting the girl.'

"I certainly agree with you, Hermione. As two grown-ups, each of us should be able to speak her thoughts. If you have anything on your mind, do ask."

"Alright…" Hermione nodded somewhat confused. "You said you know how I feel now. You made it sound like you know from personal experience. Well, do you?"

"I think every woman, be she witch or Muggle, who has had an active sexual life must have experienced that moment of doubt, when she wonders if she might be pregnant. I have experienced it twice."

"Twice? Goodness!"

"Yes, twice. The first time I was just a little older than you are now; I was nineteen. It was a week of pure horror, as I dared not to tell anyone about it, not even my fiancé."

Hermione nodded. She knew what that felt like.

"The second time I had a friend whom I could confide in. I was about forty, and had just had – well, I suppose one could call it a senseless affair. The whole thing ended, and then I had reason to worry. I didn't tell anyone for three days; then a friend cornered me and asked why I was going about the castle in a state of shock. He made me tell him, and then we sat together talking about my options for, I think, three nights in a row. On the fourth day, I was able to tell him we needn't have worried. - But I shall never forget what a great comfort it was to have a friend who did not leave me alone in a time of need."

"He, you said? But he was not the man you had slept with?"

Minerva smiled softly. "Yes, one can talk about such matters even with male friends. But then again, when Albus Dumbledore really wanted you to tell him what worried you, there was no way of keeping it secret."

"I don't think I could tell a man about such matters. It's such a female thing."

"Many women feel that way, as do many men."

Hermione paused, considering if she dared to go on. Then she said quietly, "And I always thought Professor Dumbledore and you were, well, more than friends. I even wondered if you were married. When you just mentioned a fiancé, I first thought you must have meant him."

"Are you aware that when I was nineteen, he was ninety-nine? I know many people believe we were secretly married, but that would never have worked out. Eighty years are too much off a difference even in the wizarding world."

"I never thought of it that way…" Hermione shrugged. "I reckon we students just assume even our teachers must have private lives, too. You just mentioned you were married; I never knew that."

"I mentioned I had a fiancé. But I never got married. We were too young."

Hermione sighed deeply. Unconsciously placing her right hand on her belly, she stared into the flames again.

"Hermione? – Am I right in assuming that young Mr Weasley is the potential father?"

"Yes -"

"Don't worry too much about what I said about being too young. I had other reasons to break my engagement, too – much more serious reasons. I realised I did not truly love the young man I was engaged to, and I did not think it fair to marry him just because everyone expected me to."

"I love Ron," Hermione said with youthful confidence. "But marriage… I don't know, it does seem so hasty to do this right after school."

"Very often, the first serious romance doesn't hold for a lifetime. But on the other hand, there are couples who meet in school and end up being happily married. Think of the Weasleys, think of Mr Potter's parents, too. Regarding the fact that Bill and Fleur Weasley appear to be a happy couple, too, I should say the Weasley family members seem quite lucky in finding their partner early in life."

"I just wish I knew if he is ready for – this. Oh, I it just makes me feel so sick. How could I have gotten myself into this situation!" There were tears tinkling in her eyes again.

"I suppose you were careful? I don't think you the kind of young woman who would undertake this adventure without thoroughly informing herself first."

"Yes, oh yes. We were careful. I know all about Muggle ways to protect myself, and I went to the apothecary in Diagon Alley and made the lady there tell me all about the magical ways. That's just it. I think I could accept my situation now if I had just been stupid about it. But we were so careful. I read all about it. I made Ron read all about it."

"There still is the possibility that you might not be pregnant after all. I don't want you to get your hopes up, but maybe you are just late. Emotional stress can very well do that to your body."

"I know. It's just that I've always been so regular. And I can't compare to anyone."

"When I was young, the girls in my dormitory used to talk about such matters all the time. Always hushed-up and in secret, of course, but they talked… I imagined today's students to be more open-minded."

"Oh, sure, they talk. They won't shut up about it. But I share my room with Lavender and she was best friends with Parvati before the Patils left Hogwarts last year. Lavender won't talk to me any more now that Ron and I are together, well, she never liked me much. And Ginny… we did talk about such girl stuff sometimes, but I just don't feel like asking her sexual things now that it's about her brother."

"What about your mother? Or Nymphadora?"

"Mum was great about that. She told me everything about anatomy and how it works and that stuff. But I suspect some things are different with witches. I wanted to ask Tonks yesterday – but then I just couldn't. And there are things I just cannot ask my Mom or you, even if that's not very grown-up behaviour."

"Do ask. What do you suspect is different with witches?"

"Well, the age thing for one. Wizards and witches become so much older. Like Neville's granny, or you – you sure don't look like a Muggle lady in your age would, right? Am I right in thinking a wizard is not really starting to get old before he's a hundred or so?"

"I'd say one hundred is a respectable age for a wizard already, although many live on to become 130 or older. Some grow very old. Albus was one hundred and fifty seven, and I don't think he would have died soon had it not been for – you know. There are others. Lady Marchbanks is more than a hundred and seventy years old."

"But does that also mean witches and wizards can have children at an older age than Muggels? Like, sorry for asking, could you still have children?"

"I hope not." She'd said it before thinking, but Hermione had not noticed.

"I _know_ I am past that stage in life. It's mostly the old age that is prolonged in wizards, in our younger years we age at approximately the same rate as Muggels do. There have been witch mothers about sixty-five years old, but that's about as old as possible."

They fell silent again. This time, it was Hermione who looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.

"Goodness! It's almost one! I am sorry I kept you up that long. I didn't notice how the time went by."

"That's quite alright. Although the situation surely is not pleasant for you, I have to say I did enjoy the conversation."

"Me too. You made me feel much better." Hermione hesitated for a moment, and then grinned. "That was a good trick, treating me like an equal. Made me feel more confident."

Minerva raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"That was no trick. Well, not entirely. I wanted you to get angry and curious so you would not wallow in self-pity. But I would certainly not have offered to share my personal experiences with any student. Hermione, I meant what I said. I may be your Headmistress, but that's not all. We work side by side in the Order. Sometimes I wonder if you'll become a teacher here – you do certainly have the skills. You are of age, you should think of us as equals."

"That is a nice thing to say."

Hermione nodded, clearly pleased. Then she laughed, "But there are still some things I'd never dare to ask you. Just like I couldn't ask my Mom."

"Like what?"

"Oh –" Hermione sniggered and blushed a little again.

"Silly things. What Lavender and Parvati talked about all the time when they thought me asleep. You know, like, with how many men have you been? Or how many times a week do you do it, or when was the last time you had sex? Such stuff. – I'd not even ask Tonks or Ginny about this, and certainly not you or my Mum. Sometimes it seems that's the only thing the girls care about when they speak of their boyfriends. It's silly talk."

Hermione got up, looking dog-tired. She yawned and stretched.

"I think I will be able to sleep now. Thank you for everything, Professor - Minerva. I think I will tell Ron tomorrow."

"I am sure that is a good idea. He is partly responsible for your situation; he should share your worries."

Minerva also stood up and escorted Hermione to the door. She herself felt beside herself with fatigue by now, but all the same she was glad that she had had that talk with Hermione.

Minerva knew what it was like to be the outsider in a group of students; the bookworm who was not accepted by the other girls. Hermione really reminded her of herself in that age.

"As for the matter of what else you can do right now – I suggest we wait another three or four days, then you should maybe get yourself checked by Poppy Pomfrey. It's no good to do it earlier. Information tends to leak from the hospital wing. I don't think you need school gossip on top of the uncertainty of your situation."

Hermione walked out of the office door. She turned around to say thank you once more, but Minerva interrupted her.

"Do you sometimes miss having those silly girl talks? I remember having them with Augusta Longbottom all the time - about the same three questions you just mentioned."

Hermione considered this for a moment. "Oh – I admit that I used to. I felt a little left out, but I really don't mind any more. Like I said, it's just silly talk. They giggle all night and that's it. I would not have mentioned it now if I were not so tired."

"Being able to giggle does sometimes make life easier."

Hermione could not believe it when the Headmistress beckoned her to come closer. Still a head taller than Hermione, she leaned down and whispered into her ear.

"The number of men I have been with in my life is, I am sorry to say, no more than seven. There was a time in my life when I was fairly active with my partners, certainly more often than just once a week. And the last time I had sex – well, the second-to-last time was nine years ago. The very last time was yesterday night. I trust this information is safe with you."

Minerva gently pushed Hermione towards the stairs. "Time to start giggling now, girl. Goodnight."

She closed the door, rather enjoying the look on Hermione's face.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day Minerva watched Ron and Hermione from her office window, taking a walk around the lake. At one point, she saw them standing by the lakeside for a minute or so, neither of them moving. Then Ron pulled Hermione into a close embrace and held her for a long time.

The Headmistress had the impression Hermione cried again; and Ron looked fairly pale even from the distance. A little while later, she saw them walking back hand-in-hand. Neither of them appeared at dinner. The rest of the Weasley family seemed oblivious.

The following Monday afternoon, Ron came running towards Minerva just as she was telling a couple of third-years off for using magic in the corridors.

"Professor McGonagall, could I have a quick word?" His ears were bright red, but he managed to look her into the eyes.

"Mr Weasley?"

"I saw Hermione just before she went to her Arithmancy lesson – she said she'd just found out everything was okay. She asked me to tell you right away if I saw you."

"That is excellent news, Mr Weasley. Thank you for telling me."

"I am sure she will come to see you as soon as her classes are over."

Ron walked away with a big relieved grin on his face; then he suddenly remembered something and turned around again.

"Ahm, Professor, I wanted to say thank you, too. Hermione said you took her mind of things when she came to talk to you. I don't know what she meant; she refused to explain any further. Just said you made her – giggle. Whatever you said, you helped her a great deal."

"I am glad to hear that." Minerva did her best to suppress a wicked smile.

"Thank you, Professor. Not just from Hermione – from me, too."

"You are more than welcome."

Ron spotted Harry at the end of the corridor and went to join him. Minerva walked away in the other direction, now unable to hold back that smile. At least, some things turned out to be alright these days.

"What are you grinning about?" Mad-Eye Moody confronted her. She almost dropped her books.

"Moody! Don't jump at me like that!"

"You were the one wandering around lost in thought. Mind ya, must have been happy thoughts."

"So what?" she snapped. "Alastor, I know you mean well but do stop sneaking up on me like that. I am not Harry, and I don't need to train defending myself when being attacked from behind a corner."

"I wasn't going to attack you. Just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I also don't need protection here in the corridor."

"And how would you know that? We have one Death Eater entering the castle on a regular base," he growled.

"Hush up!" she hissed back.

"There's no one around hearing us." Moody pointed down the now-empty corridor. "Everyone's in class. And I just meant to say even if we do trust the fellow now we have somewhat lifted security because of him, right?"

Minerva took him by the arm and dragged him into an empty classroom nearby.

"We haven't lifted security too much by just allowing the doors to leave one certain person with that mark enter the castle. But I do consider it unsafe talking about that in the corridors."

Moody looked away, mumbling something that might have been an apology.

"Look, I didn't want to argue with you," he said grumpily. "It's so rare that you smile; that's really all I wanted to say."

She relaxed. After all, she knew that Moody hid a nice person somewhere under all those irritable manners.

"It's alright," she said. "I think we all are a little short-tempered with everything going on."

Moody grinned shrewdly. "You don't. You seem to take it all rather well."

"Do I? I never much had that impression."

"You didn't want to be Head of the Order, did you?"

She shook her head.

"See, but you're doing great. And this school is up an' running when everything else is going to hell. Just think, St Mungo's keeps asking us for medical supplies, that's saying something."

Minerva carefully considered what to say next. Like her, Moody was not a person who often complimented other people on their achievements.

"Thank you, Alastor. Coming from you, that is very flattering."

He grumbled again something she could not understand. As unsociably as possible, he continued: "I mean it. Ye've outdone yourself with all that pressure. And while everyone else looks stressed out you look younger every day."

Minerva said nothing, but raised an eyebrow in surprise. Moody turned around and stomped out of the room, where he met Tonks standing in the door.

"Eavesdropping?" he barked.

"Yes," Tonks said nonchalantly. "Actually I just wanted to talk to Minerva about the pre-school children, that's why I followed you two. Your fault if you don't close the doors before dishing out compliments."

Moody snorted and trampled away. Tonks came into the room and grinned at Minerva.

"Another argument with your secret admirer?"

"With my - what?

"Oh, come on, everyone knows he's quite taken with you. Why else would he try to safeguard you all the time?"

"He does that with all of us," Minerva said firmly.

"Yeah, right, he does. I still think he likes you rather a lot. He even moved to Hogwarts at the beginning of this year, under the most stupid pretence I've ever heard."

Minerva shrugged, not quite able to think of an appropriate answer. "You wanted to talk to me about the little ones?"

"Yes, Remus and I have this idea. We'd like to build a playground outside… I've made some plans I'd like to show you." She held up a role of parchment.

"Good idea," Minerva nodded. "Do come to my office with me, we can look at them there."

They went up to the Headmistress's office together. All of a sudden, Tonks smiled and said, "He's right, you know."

"Who is right?"

"Mad-Eye. You really do a very good job here and with everything else going on."

"Thank you."

"And you do look younger," Tonks laughed.

"I do not. How come that suddenly everyone seems obsessed with my age?"

"Who is everyone?" Tonks said quizzically.

"Anyway, maybe you do not look younger; it's just that people suddenly remember you are not 150. Minerva, everyone always thought of you only as Dumbledore's partner. You seemed out of bounds. Now suddenly they realise you are very attractive, and way younger than Moody or Slughorn. One of the four-year-olds asked me how come you were Remus's superior when he's older than you – you know; his grey hair and all."

Minerva was silent for a moment. She opened the door to her office and entered.

"I don't know what to say," she then admitted truthfully.

"Just accept it, I should say." Tonks laughed again. "And be careful Moody doesn't try to marry you. Unless you'd want him, of course. Mrs Longbottom made a remark the other day… I think she'd approve."

Chuckling, she put her plans for the playground on the desk.

"Here, we have some neat ideas. The older children could help us building this; that would keep them occupied. And the young ones will love it once it's done. A playground with real magic, won't that be fun?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Later that afternoon, Minerva sat in her office reading some student essays. As usual, she had left the door slightly ajar, so that any student might enter at any time. Suddenly, the door swung open and closed on its own.

"Severus?"

He pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.

"What are you doing here in broad daylight? Has something happened?" Minerva almost jumped from her chair.

"No. I just came to see you."

She smiled. "No one noticed you getting in?"

He locked the door from inside, then crossed the room and kissed her fervently. "I have about three hours."

They spent the better part of the first two hours in her bedroom.

That first time when they had slept together in front of the fireplace, it had been making love. This time, it was passionate sex. Maybe it was typical for their relationship that it should be followed by a passionate argument almost immediately.

When Minerva got up from the bed to get something to drink, she wrapped herself in one of the bed sheets. Snape watched her across the room with a somewhat annoyed look on his face.

"Why do you still insist on hiding your body?" he inquired bluntly.

"Because I don't like being naked."

"Neither do I like it much. However, in this situation, it is only appropriate."

Her mouth formed a thin line before she snapped, "I just don't like it when you look at me like that."

"Like what?"

Exasperated, he tried to be friendly about it. "Minerva, how can you still believe I could not like your body? From what I recall, I have just seen it and enjoyed it very much."

"That was different. Now when you look at me, I feel like you're inspecting me for something. It's different when you touch me, I can then – relax."

"So I am only to look at you when I display enough passion to make you feel confident," he said acidly.

She glanced at him furiously, at a total loss of how to explain. Couldn't he just understand that it still felt wrong to love a man that much younger?

With an annoyed grunt, Snape got up from the bed and went into her bathroom. She heard him take a quick shower and put on her dressing gown in the meantime. Staring out of the window, she didn't turn around when he entered the bedroom again.

He walked up behind her and grabbed her by the shoulders with a firm grip that was everything but gentle.

"We need to settle this once and for all," he said decidedly, turning her around.

"How?" She did not like his commanding attitude. Also, she realised that he had by now dressed again, whereas she only wore her light dressing gown.

"Come."

He more or less dragged her to the mirror by her cupboard, placing her in front of it. There, he unceremoniously ripped her dressing gown off and made her face the mirror full frontal. Furiously she struggled against him, but he stood behind her, holding her by her shoulders.

"Stop this stupid cat-fight and hold still; you know I can force you. - Tell me what you see," he said. "What is there to be ashamed of?"

She didn't answer, but looked at herself in that mirror. She could not remember when she had last looked at herself in a mirror like that. Now she saw the reflection of her naked body in front of his black robes. Again, she tried to turn away but he held her resolutely. The more she tried to break free, the more his fingers dug painfully into the flesh of her shoulders.

"I'll tell you what I see," he said harshly.

"I see a very sleek, tall woman. A mature woman, not a girl. Not an ounce of fat that would not belong there – in fact, you are almost too thin. Small breasts, but nicely shaped. Few lines in your face. Few signs of age on your body. Small feet. Beautiful, white skin. One scar on your chest that looks like a burn mark – a reminder of those stunners, I'd imagine. It's clearly visible, but certainly not disfiguring. Let's see, what else –"

All the while, Minerva had held still. His cold, impassionate voice had an authoritative power that held her frozen. He was not flattering her with compliments; rather he was simply stating facts. Surprisingly, she found that with every sentence he said, she objected less to his merciless conduct.

"There, your hair." Snape pointed to the tangled mass that her strict bun had become over the past two hours. He removed the last remaining pins – certainly not too carefully – and ran through the tresses with his fingers.

"You have the hair of a young woman. I'll admit I like it better when you wear it in that tight bun. Suits your character better."

She actually smiled. Snape let go of her, but continued to look at her reflection.

Minerva drew in a deep breath and studied her own body. Reluctantly, she agreed with Snape, re-considering everything he had mentioned. Her body did not look too bad. Taking her age in account, it was in rather good shape. And she had to admit that the contrast of her own white nakedness and his black robes behind her did create a strangely attractive image.

"Show me your hands." Snape demanded. Not turning around, she raised her left arm so that he could examine her hand.

"Your hands are the only part of your body that do somewhat betray your age. They don't look old, but they are definitely not a young woman's hands," he stated.

She shrugged, "So what?"

"See?" he said, "Suddenly you don't mind any more." He put his arms around her again, still looking at their mirror images.

"Minerva, if you want this to work out, you have to stop this foolishness. I know exactly how old you are, and I told you that I don't mind. I like your not-too-young body just the way it is. You have to believe me."

"I do believe you," she said sincerely, rubbing the marks his fingers had left on her shoulders. "You are a cruel man, but you are no liar."

He laughed softly. "And you are quite a masochist."

"I am not!"

"Oh yes, you are. Admit it; you rather enjoyed this little performance."

He was genuinely amused with her reaction.

"I think I'd better leave now. And you need to get down to the dinner table before they miss you."

Checking her bedside clock, she had to agree and dressed quickly. Snape watched her quietly while she did her hair in front of the big mirror.

"I am not," she stated again, putting the last pin into her hair.

She tried to look stern, but her eyes betrayed how much she enjoyed having him around. He smiled before he disappeared under the Invisibility Cloak.


	10. The Killing Curse

Minerva did not hear from Snape for the next four days, but she was in a good mood. So was Hermione, the two witches often smiled at each other when they met in the school corridors.

Harry had, in the meantime, practised very hard on his Occlumency and non-verbal spell casting abilities. Moody tested him frequently but jumping at him at unexpected times, trying to curse him while Harry was studying in the library or practising Quidditch with the Gryffindor team. Harry had become quite good at blocking serious curses within a split-second.

On Friday afternoon Minerva saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione return from a visit to Hagrid's hut. Just after they had entered the castle, someone tried to stun Harry out of nowhere.

Harry reacted within an instant. He evaded the hex (which hit a second-year-student instead), disarmed his unseen attacker with such force that Moody lost the Invisibility Cloak he had hidden under, and then transfigured the old wizard into a small ferret.

"Moody, you may be invisible under that cloak, but I heard you. And I certainly expected something like this when I noticed someone had nicked _my_ Invisibility Cloak from my trunk," Harry grinned.

Everyone in the entrance hall exploded with laughter. Most of the students present had heard of the incident when the fake Professor Moody had transfigured Draco Malfoy into a white ferret.

Even Minerva smiled broadly. Only Moody the ferret – a brownish-grey one with many scars and one paw missing – looked around consternated. Minerva transfigured him back into his normal shape and un-stunned the student next to Harry.

"Five points to Gryffindor, Mr Potter," she said, "for an excellent demonstration of my favourite branch of magic. Although I must stress again that human transfiguration is not to be used for one's amusement."

"Thank you, Professor!" Harry beamed.

Moody had in the meantime collected the Invisibility Cloak from the floor and gave it back to Harry.

"I'd say you're pretty ready for any battle, Potter. I had no chance foretelling which spells ye were going to use," he barked.

Minerva noticed that Moody could not help looking rather proud of the boy.

"He had a good teacher," Hermione said warmly.

The trio went up the stairs in the direction of Gryffindor tower, and the other students scattered from the hall. Ginny Weasley, who had lingered on the stairs during the whole scene, immediately hurried away. Minerva picked up Moody's wand and gave it back to him.

"Hermione is right, Alastor. You have done a very good job teaching Harry."

"I wasn't the only one, as we know. Lupin taught him as well. So did you. And someone else," Moody said off-handily.

"But you did most of us all. At first I thought it a bit annoying that you would sneak up on the boy at all times, but clearly you have prepared him well."

"Constant vigilance," Moody muttered vaguely, but he did give the impression of being pleased with the compliment.

"Where were you going anyway in that heavy cloak?" he changed the subject. "I thought you'd be up in the staff room playing chess with Filius?"

"Two of the Ravenclaw boys got into a fight this morning, Filius is arranging their detentions. I was going to go for a walk."

"Mind if a come along?" Moody asked. "I was going to ask you for a word anyway."

They went outside. It still was chilly for the time of the year, and a cool breeze steadily blew from the lake.

Minerva first headed for her usual route along the lake-side, but then thought better of it and decided to go down to the closer green-houses instead. Moody never complained about his wooden leg, but she suspected that walking long distances was an ordeal for him.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. It felt strange for Minerva to be accompanied by anyone else than Snape; none of the other teachers had ever shared her passion for being outside in rough Scottish weather.

"We need to act soon," Moody finally said when they were well out of hearing distance from anyone.

"I know," Minerva sighed. "Now that Harry is has become that good at duelling, really there is no point in delaying this any longer. We have to go down to the Ministry and confront You-Know-Who."

"But you don't want to."

"Of course I don't. It feels like sentencing everyone to death. How can I decide who should come along? How can I order Harry to go there and become a murderer or perish himself?"

"I'll go. You don't have to tell me."

"I know that, Alastor. Thank you. I will go myself, naturally. And I suppose there are some who will insist on it, too – Remus, Tonks, Hagrid…"

"All of the Order will stand united."

"I will not have the Weasley children there. Or Molly, or Hermione."

"You won't be able to hinder them."

"I can order them to stay behind."

"They won't listen to you," Moody said. "Sorry, but you don't have that kind of authority. Even Albus could not have made them leave Harry; I'm sure of that."

Minerva smiled sadly. She still did not feel comfortable with having to replace Dumbledore.

"I'm sorry," Moody said, in a surprisingly soft voice.

"What for?"

"Mentioning Dumbledore. Every time someone mentions him, you get that horribly sad look on your face. I know you're still in mourning."

"Aren't we all? Of course I miss him terribly. But I can cope."

"Ye're a brave one," Moody said, squeezing her arm for a second. Then he let go quickly.

"Thank you," she replied, very surprised with the compliment. "But really, it is alright to mention Albus in my presence. I am not trying to be extra brave. I miss him, but I will not spend the rest of my life mourning for my friend. He would not have wanted that."

"Right."

"So what do we now do about Harry? Do we plan an attack?" Minerva said after a few moments.

She did not feel like discussing Dumbledore's death any more, it reminded her too much of the anger that she had experienced upon finding out that her best friend had not confided his final plan in her.

"I reckon we'll have to. Before You-Know-Who can create another Horcrux. Who knows if he hasn't already, Snape can't know everything."

"And let us hope that he has not found a way to block the Unforgivables. If the Avada Kedavra does not work, I am much afraid Harry will panic. Thank goodness he is, after all, not a trained killer."

"We will have to distract the bastard. From what Snape has said, it takes concentration and strength to block the Killing Curse. If we can lock him in a duel with two or three of us, Harry might stand a chance."

"Hopefully."

They returned to the castle in a very subdued mood. Upon entering the entrance hall together, they saw Hermione striding towards them, obviously in a hurry. She held the Marauder's Map in her hands.

"Minerva, Moody!" she exclaimed, "I've come to fetch you."

"Yes?"

Hermione looked around to see if anyone was in hearing distance, then she whispered, "He's arrived here five minutes ago, I've already assembled the Order. Must be bad news; judging from his mood."

They hurried up the stairs to Minerva's office. In her haste, Minerva tripped over one step, but Moody immediately caught her arm. Hermione shot a quizzical look at Moody, then her eyes wandered between Minerva and Moody several times. She smiled slyly.

"Yes, Hermione?" Minerva said calmly. She had the inkling that Hermione had just jumped to a wrong conclusion.

"Nothing," Hermione replied hastily.

Snape, Lupin, Tonks, and most the Weasleys were waiting in Minerva's office. Harry and Ron came rushing in immediately after Moody and the Headmistress.

"What is it?" Minerva asked after Ron had slammed the door shut.

"Bad news," Snape replied grimly. "Two very bad things have happened. He has created another Horcrux. And I saw him successfully block the Avada Kedavra last night."

"That is horrible!" Molly Weasley squeaked.

"What is the Horcurx? And where is it?" Lupin asked in a forcefully calm voice.

"That is the worst part," Snape spat out. "I don't know."

"Then how do you know that he made one?" Tonks wanted to know.

"He created it in our presence. It appears to be a lengthy ritual, creating a Horcrux… we saw only part of it. Wormtail had prepared it all, and he had found a victim the Dark Lord deemed worth of it. It was Scrimgeour. Apparently he was down in the dungeons all the time."

"Scrimgeour," Percy Weasley repeated monotonously. He still rarely ever spoke in Snape's presence, but mentioning his former place of work usually made him listen up. "I never knew he was down there, too."

"Me neither. Pettigrew had him in his care," Snape hissed. "Anyway, the Dark Lord crated his Horcrux by killing Scrimgeour last night. And I don't know what it is, no one knows… he had the object hidden behind a curtain. He is careful now, he wants us to know that he is immortal again, but he does not trust us to know what the object is. It might take me weeks before I can find out, legilimencing him is not easy."

"Wormtail must know," Lupin said coldly.

"Wormtail is no more," Snape replied, equally cold. "My first plan was to kidnap him and get the information out of him. The Dark Lord has made sure Pettigrew cannot speak the secret. He killed him immediately after hiding the Horcrux."

They remained silent for a few seconds.

"Can't we guess what it is?" Fred Weasley finally said. "Maybe the Ministry Map shows a room where it could be hidden and will give us a clue."

Arthur Weasley unrolled the map on Minerva's desk, studying it closely. "I don't see any changes."

"I don't think it will be on the map," Snape explained. "There is one thing the Dark Lord said, something he seemed pleased about. He said that it was hidden somewhere where no one would expect it…"

"Hogwarts," Hagrid immediately said.

"Don't think so," Moody interrupted, "We'd expect it here. The Sorting Hat was here. And I don't reckon he'd use the same place twice."

"I agree," Minerva said, thinking aloud. "It sounds as if he meant some place where it is open to see for everyone, as if it was an object we see every day – like a Portkey. Severus, where did he create the Horcrux?"

"In his audience hall."

They each pondered on several ideas for a few more minutes, but none came to a good conclusion.

"What about that Avada Kedavra blocking? How did you see that happen?"

"I saw it with my own eyes only last night. The Dark Lord still trains this on his prisoners with Nott's help. Yesterday I saw him succeed – not for the first time, I think. I know now how he does the shielding part, but I don't know what spell he uses to actually break the curse. Of course he always does it non-verbally."

Suddenly, Snape flinched, clutching his left forearm with his right hand. He rolled up his sleeve and exposed the Dark Mark etched into his skin. The tattoo had turned jet-black, with the edges burning red. It looked like a fresh burn mark.

"He is calling us," Snape said tonelessly. His face had turned ashen.

"This he has not done in a very long time. Something important must have happened if he summons all of us without warning."

He immediately threw on the Invisibility Cloak he always wore in the castle.

"I have to leave," he said before hiding his face.

He shot one last look at Minerva, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Then he disappeared entirely. They saw the door open and heard his steps hurrying down the spiral staircase.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After that episode on Friday afternoon, no one heard from Snape again. Minerva grew increasingly worried, and she saw that the others were distracted, too. Some major development must have taken place in Voldemort's stronghold, and Snape seemed unable to send them a message. The Ministry Map constantly lay open on Minerva's desk, but it showed no changes.

Sunday morning over breakfast, Minerva pondered not for the first time if it was worth going to London and trying to sneak into the Ministry. As the only Animagus of the Order she might be able to do it. Remus Lupin had suggested something similar on the previous evening – the full moon was only two days away, and in his wolf shape he might be able to get into the Ministry building without being identified. After all, Voldemort had other werewolves in his services.

Distractedly, Minerva leafed through the Daily Prophet while drinking her tea when she heard screams coming from the entrance hall. Looking up, she saw a couple of younger students running into the Great Hall where most of the school was assembled for breakfast.

Behind the students came about fifteen persons, all of them clad in white robes with hoods hiding their faces. They marched into the Great Hall. Behind them followed a tall man with a white face, clad in magnificent, dark grey robes. The eyes in his face shone maleficent with a reddish glow, and his nose was nothing more than two slits. A great snake slithered on the ground behind him.

Lord Voldemort had come to Hogwarts.

Some of the students froze in shock, but most of them panicked and ran away from the group of Death Eaters. Hagrid and Tonks rose from their seats immediately and ushered the students to stand together in the corner of the hall behind the staff table, as far away from Voldemort as possible. Most of the teachers formed a protective cordon in front of the students. Molly Weasley, white-faced and shaking, took some brave steps forward and collected two small girls who had remained standing in the middle of the hall.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were the only students now left at the tables. They had not moved. Harry slowly stood up. His face was pale, but he wore a resolved expression.

Minerva walked to them and stood in front of the four. Her insides shaking with fear, she tried to look Voldemort in the eyes. Mockingly, he bowed his head as if politely greeting her. Everyone in the Great Hall had fallen silent.

"What do you want here?" Minerva asked. She was proud to notice that her voice did not shake.

Voldemort smiled. "I thought I'd call on you to tell you a few things. And to do away with Potter, of course."

Minerva heard Hermione draw in a sharp breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Tonks now stood next to the young witch, and that Lupin and Moody had walked up behind her.

"You are not welcome here," Minerva said to Voldemort.

"Tell us what you must," Lupin added, "and then leave. You will have to kill every single one of us before we let you harm Harry."

"Maybe I will."

Voldemort smiled again. It was plain to see how much he enjoyed the fear his presence created. Minerva mustered all her strength and strode forward, halting only a few steps in front of the man she feared so much.

"Let the students go," she requested. "Then you can tell me whatever you want."

Some of the Death Eaters laughed. One of them threw off her hood and revealed her face. Bellatrix Lestrange smiled madly.

"Never," she cackled. "We know you will behave as long as they are here. You will not risk a battle with those precious children close by."

Voldemort gestured for her to be silent. He now also stepped forward, closing in on Minerva. His long, thin fingers played with his wand lovingly.

"Really, Minerva," he said slowly, "I have to congratulate you. Opposing me for such a long time was no small feat."

Minerva did not reply. She employed her best Occlumency skills to shield her thoughts and memories from the dark wizard.

"Don't you want to know what happened to your spy?" Voldemort softly asked.

Minerva raised one eyebrow. Still she did not reply.

Voldemort laughed again, which could only mean the worst.

"Oh yes, your spy. Really it was quite an extraordinary achievement. I knew Dumbledore had spies set on me. I suspected you did the same. But this one… no, until two days ago I had not the faintest idea that he was the one who sold information to you. Tell me, Minerva, what did he get from you in return?"

"I will not discuss this with you."

"Ah, but I want to discuss it with you. Don't you want to know what his mistake was? How I came to find out? And what happened to him?"

Minerva pressed her lips together in an effort to keep calm. Voldemort noticed her emotional reaction and broke into an appalling grin.

"Just so you know – he was true to you until the end. It was mere coincidence I found out that he was hiding something. You see, two days ago, I just decided to test all of my Death Eaters for their strength of faith again… It was rather remarkable how long he stood the Cruciatus Curse before I noticed he avoided my eyes."

Minerva swallowed hard. All of a sudden, she felt dizzy and nauseous. Voldemort noticed her effort to remain calm and continued his explanations sadistically slow.

"You have to understand, usually they look at me and beg for mercy. He looked away. He looked away because he was afraid I would enter his mind."

Voldemort paused, leisurely looking around in the Great Hall. Minerva concentrated hard on standing upright. So this was the reason why Voldemort had called all his followers to him, and why Snape had not contacted her ever since.

A grim pain had gripped all of her body. She did not want to imagine Snape's final moments, but could not help picturing the scene in her mind over and over again.

Voldemort's eyes came to rest on her face again.

"I'll tell you what, none of my victims has ever lasted that long. It took hours before he was weak enough that I could break into his memories. Hours of torture; hours of screaming with pain. Remarkable, really… And there was one particular memory I found so very useful."

Voldemort took a small phial of glass out of his pockets and held it up for everyone to see. Minerva saw that it contained a dark red liquid.

"Amazingly simple. A Blood Gate that would open to his blood only. Of course, half-dead on the floor he could not object any more when borrowed some of his blood. I must say it was a convenient entrance into Hogwarts. – And in case you are still wondering, by now he should be dead. I left him in the care of eight experts in the matter of slow, painful deaths. He deserved nothing less. But after a whole day of torture, it grew boring watching him."

The evil wizard pocketed the phial again. After that, he slowly raised his hand and tried to stroke Minerva's cheek with his white fingers. Minerva recoiled.

"Of course, it was quite noteworthy what other memories I found there in his head," he sneered. "It is somewhat disgusting, really, that he should not even have been an ordinary spy to you – he was nothing but your whore."

Minerva slapped his face without thinking first. It was one quick movement with her right hand, then she stood still again. Her whole body shook with fury now.

Voldemort stared back at her. His left cheek bore the red marks of her fingers. All of the Death Eaters pointed their wands at her, but Voldemort stopped them with a small gesture.

"Don't. This I will personally make her pay for."

Both of them raised their wands higher. Minerva was a lot calmer now. The fury had eliminated some of her fear, and she now was ready to fight her last battle.

Now that her love was dead, it did not matter to her that she would die most likely. With some fatalism, she thought that hopefully she might be able to distract Voldemort enough so that Harry could make his move.

"Leave her alone," suddenly a strained voice came from the door.

Spinning around, they saw Snape entering the Great Hall. He did look more dead than alive. Swaying alarmingly, he struggled forward with awkward steps. His right arm dangled almost lifeless at his side, and he held a white wand that was not his own clutched in his left hand. His torn robes dragged on the ground, leaving a trail of blood. Blood also trickled from one corner of his mouth.

"Leave her alone," he repeated a little louder.

Lupin rushed forward to Snape's side. Maybe the best indicator for Snape's condition was that he actually allowed Lupin to support him. Heavily leaning on the other man's shoulder, he slowly staggered closer to Minerva.

"Shouldn't you be dead?" Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked. "What happened to Nott and the others? That's his wand you're holding."

"They paid for it," Snape said coldly.

Voldemort mustered Snape like an annoying insect. His snake hissed excitedly.

"A foolishly brave effort, Snape," he said off-handily. "And completely pointless. Almost a Gryffindor thing to do. What could you possibly do to stop me? You yourself killed the old Head of the Order of the Phoenix, and I will now do away with the new one. Who could then save Potter any more?"

Snape wiped some of the blood from his mouth before he spoke again.

"You will not harm her."

Voldemort laughed coldly, then he turned to Minerva again. Thoroughly enjoying it, he raised his wand once more.

"Avada Ke- " he started calmly, but Snape acted at the same time.

It all happened in less than a second. He pushed Lupin away and whispered something in an unknown tongue while making a complicated movement with the wand he was holding. Wincing with pain, he used his injured right arm to reach for Minerva and pull her behind him.

Shielding Minerva with his body, he then pointed his wand at Voldemort.

"Legilimens…" he whispered.

" –davra." Voldemort completed his curse.

Green light shot out of the tip of his wand, aiming at Minerva.

But whatever counter-course Snape had performed, it held the green rays away from her, albeit coming dangerously close to him. The light spread out as though it was repelled by a shield. It wavered like a wall of green fog between Voldemort and Snape.

Minerva gradually understood what Snape was trying to do. He knew how to shield against the Killing Curse for as long as his strength held, but he did not yet know how to break the curse entirely. For that, he had to force his way into Voldemort's memories and learn it there.

Minerva pointed her own wand at Voldemort, holding him in the place where he stood. Lupin and Moody did the same. Together, they were able to hold the evil wizard in a fixed position, not allowing him to break the eye contact to Snape.

Later, Minerva had no idea how long the scene had lasted – most likely, no more than a few seconds. It felt like half her life.

Everybody in the Great Hall first seemed frozen with shock, but then some of the Death Eaters reacted. Bellatrix shot a nasty curse at Moody and forced him to let go of Voldemort and duel her. Minerva felt someone aim a stunner at her, but the shield Snape had created seemed to protect her from that, too.

Snape slowly muttered words he drew out of Voldemort's memories one by one. All of them were in a guttural sing-song language no one understood – possibly it was of that branch of magic that Dumbledore had always called 'ancient'.

Snape seemed successful for now, yet Minerva could see that his strength wore out. The green light came closer to them again. Snape's sweat-covered face had turned pasty white, and he seemed to hold himself upright by pure willpower only. Voldemort, on the other hand, was under hard pressure, but could surely last for a few more minutes. Minerva found it increasingly harder to hold Voldemort in place. He was regaining his power after the initial shock of the attack.

Snape swayed again. Minerva tried to support him, but found that she was unable to help much with only one free hand. Slowly, he collapsed to his knees, still not breaking the eye contact with Voldemort. With great effort, he muttered one last syllable, and then brandished his wand at the green, wavering light again.

Once more, everybody assembled in the Great Hall fell silent. They all watched the light change. First it concentrated again and closed in on Snape, but then, in the very last instant, the cloud of light exploded. Green sparks shot in every direction, and then it was gone.

For one stunned second, Minerva and Voldemort looked at each other, each overwhelmed with the effects. Then Minerva looked down at Snape. He had collapsed at her feet. His body showed no signs of life any more.

Tears in her eyes, Minerva carefully stepped around his body. Then she attacked Voldemort with all her might.

Both of them did not bother with common spells. They battled pure magic force and willpower against each other – at some point, Minerva realised that she did not even use her wand at all times, but that she had channelled so much of her pain and anger into magical energy that she could repel some of Voldemort's hexes just by moving her hands. Cat-like, she fought with her whole body.

It was the crudest, most forceful magic she had ever employed. She screamed curses that she had read about only and sworn never to use. All that she wanted was revenge, and she made use of the darkest magic she knew about.

Glancing sideways, Minerva saw at one point that a major battle had broken out in the Great Hall. All of the Order of the Phoenix, the teachers, and even some of the older students fought the fifteen Death Eaters Voldemort had brought along. They even were successful – she noticed one Death Eater unconscious on the ground already.

Neville was locked in combat with Bellatrix Lestrange, aided by Lupin. Together, they were finally able to petrify her.

Minerva doubled her efforts against Voldemort. Moody had now forced his way to her side again. Together, they were actually able to keep Voldemort from doing too much harm to others. Gradually, they had moved into the middle of the Great Hall where there was enough space for free movements. Some of the students tried to escape into the entrance hall, but Voldemort slammed the doors shut with a quick move of his wand.

The spell had distracted him for a second, and Minerva was able to hit him squarely in the chest with a stunning spell. It did not knock him out, but he staggered backwards for a second, gasping for breath.

"Now would be a good time, Harry," Lupin said quietly.

With his calm teacher authority, he stood behind the pale boy, his right hand on Harry's left shoulder. He acted as if they were totally alone, just practising a spell in Lupin's classroom.

Harry drew in a deep breath. He faced his archenemy, his face set. Voldemort had noticed Harry, too, and froze in his movements. Moody and Minerva both stepped out of Harry's way. Again they tried to hold Voldemort in one place.

Harry looked at his victim. He raised his wand and pointed it at Voldemort. For seconds, they stared at each other. Everybody else in the hall had fallen silent again. The only creature moving was Voldemort's snake, which hissed excitedly and slithered around her master's feet.

Harry's hand holding the wand was shaking. Tears shone in his eyes. He bit on his lip, then drew in another deep breath.

Voldemort laughed.

"You cannot do it, boy." He smiled mockingly. "You lack the killing instinct."

"I can do it," Harry whispered, his voice uneven. "I can, I have to…"

Minerva looked away from Harry. The snake had now stopped her energized movements and had coiled up at Voldemort's feet, her head still raised and watching the scene. Her yellow eyes were fixed on Harry.

"No boy, you can't do it," Voldemort sneered.

In her heart, Minerva knew that he was right. Harry was no murderer.

She did not even feel angry with him, or disappointed - rather than that she felt stupidly proud that the boy still was so empathic after everything that he had been trough in his life. She only was sad that they would now most likely lose the battle; that all their efforts had been in vain.

Voldemort would be the victor. Snape had died for nothing.

"Together, Harry," Minerva suddenly heard a shy voice. "Together we can do it."

She turned around again. Neville was standing next to Harry now, shaking from head to toe. The two young wizards looked at each other and nodded. Then both of them raised their wands again, and –

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Two green lights shot at Voldemort at the same time. He threw up his hand, muttering words in that ancient language again – but the shield he created held away one of the green lights only. The other one hit him, glowing intensely for an instant. Then Voldemort dropped down.

His body changed rapidly into that of a small, baby-like creature. Minerva remembered the being Harry had described after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament – clearly, this again was Voldemort not alive, but also not dead. One part of his soul still remained concealed in his last Horcrux.

The snake Nagini hissed again, quickly sliding away from the scene. And suddenly Minerva realised what the last Horcurx was. She pointed her wand at the snake and forced it back into the middle of the hall.

Harry and Neville had also understood. Once more, they aimed together and killed the snake.

The baby-like creature wailed shrilly, then, with a soft plopping sound, the body changed again. Now there lay the body of a dark haired, lean man.

Moody stomped closer and looked down at the corpse.

"Tom Riddle," he said gravely. "Dead for good."

For endless seconds, no one reacted. Then Fred and George started cheering. Tonks came running towards Harry and Neville, hugging them both. Hermione broke into hysteric sobs, laughing at the same time. The whole hall exploded with shouts. Moody trampled to Minerva and put his right arm around her shoulders.

"Well done, girl," he said warmly, hugging her hard. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd employ Dark Arts. You've done a marvellous job."

"Thank you, Alastor," she smiled faintly.

Now that the battle was over, all she could feel was grief over Snape's death. She could not bear looking at him. Gently, she shook Moody's arm off, forcing herself to remain upright for a few more minutes.

"I want to congratulate Harry and Neville," she explained.

They went to the two boys, who were hardly visible through the crowd of people hugging them. Augusta Longbottom stood close by, sobbing into one of Hagrid's giant handkerchiefs. Hagrid awkwardly patted her back.

"Neville? Harry?" Minerva asked gently.

The students broke apart. Harry and Neville both grinned at Minerva. Words failed her. With an unusually emotional gesture, she drew both boys into a close embrace – which both of them returned warmly.

"You're bleeding, Professor," Neville said when they broke apart. He pointed to her forehead.

She touched it with her fingers, not much surprised to find fresh blood there. Her head hurt immensely.

"And what a cut!" George Weasley exclaimed. "Will you look at that, it's just like Harry's scar!"

"Makes sense," Hagrid said grimly.

"Remember what Dumbledore said back then in Privet Drive? That's what you get when a powerful curse hits you. Headmistress, ye're the second known person who's survived the Killing Curse."

"Of course," Lupin said. "I wonder if you now will have some of Voldemort's abilities, too – like Harry does."

Everybody gaped at her forehead now. Minerva shooed them away.

"Let's not bother with that now," she said sharply. "There are a lot more important things now. We have to send owls to everyone we know, and have to take care of – of the bodies."

"Minerva?"

Someone took her arm and dragged her away from the boys, who were immediately surrounded by their friends again. Hermione led Minerva away from the group to where Snape's body lay on the floor. Poppy Pomfrey was bent over him. Minerva turned away, still not able to look at him. Her heart was bleeding; she knew she would break down entirely if she looked at his dead face. 

"Minerva," Hermione said urgently, "he is alive. We have to get him to the hospital wing."


	11. Memories

Within hours, Hogwarts staff and students sent hundreds of owls to every part of the country. The news of Voldemort's final downfall spread quickly. 

The war was over. Those Death Eaters who had actually witnessed their Lord's death at Hogwarts had surrendered; and Flitwick and Hagrid quickly created a makeshift prison in the dungeons.

Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet appeared at Hogwarts within two hours. Minerva insisted that she would interview no one but Hermione – Harry and Neville did not want to talk to her anyway, and Hermione would make sure that the story for the Daily Prophet would be accurate.

Arthur, Molly, Charlie, Bill, and the Weasley twins immediately left for the Ministry building together with Moody, Tonks, and Lupin. They found the bodies of eight Death Eaters in the audience hall, along with traces of a major battle. Two of the portraits in the hall lost no time in informing them that these eight wizards were the ones who had continued Snape's torture and paid with their lives for it.

The rest of the building appeared deserted except for the prison cells. They released most of the prisoners. Some, however, they had to keep because they needed medical care first. Quite a few apparently had become insane. Molly went to St Mungo's to check on the situation there and returned with some healers to the Ministry.

Much to everyone's surprise, the sealed-off departments of the Ministry building opened when Arthur Weasley approached. They seemed to recognise him as a rightful Ministry official.

Minerva remained at Hogwarts. Together with the rest of the staff, she saw to it that the students were taken care off. Many had suffered a severe shock, and some were injured because they had been too close witnesses to the battle or had even joined in it.

The Headmistress had first accompanied Snape to the hospital wing, but had then reluctantly accepted that there was nothing she could do for him, and that she was needed more elsewhere. Still, she returned almost every half hour until Poppy Pomfrey ordered her out of the room.

"I will send for you the minute he gets better or worse, so unless you are here for your own treatment, do get out of the way!"

Minerva asked Harry and Neville to assist Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing – she felt that both boys now needed to be kept occupied. Augusta Longbottom helped Ron, Ginny and some other elder students with the youngest children. Many of them simply were too young to understand what had taken place.

Firenze offered to take Tom Riddle's body into the Forbidden Forest and bury it there in a secret place. Accompanied by Hagrid's brother Grawp, he dared to enter the forest despite the ban from his herd. Minerva agreed gladly. She wanted the body out of Hogwarts as soon as possible, and the last thing they needed was a public grave that would only attract both morbid sight-seers and the remaining Death Eaters.

In spite of the horrors discovered at the Ministry building and the general atmosphere of post-war shock, the day did turn into a great feast.

People everywhere started celebrating just as they had done on Halloween 1981 – possibly the celebrations were even grander. Soon fireworks exploded in the sky above Hogsmeade. People were dancing in the streets. Every part of the country that was reached by the good news burst into spontaneous celebrations.

Many witches and wizards from all of the country travelled to Hogsmeade, wanting to celebrate with their own kind. Former Ministry workers apparated in London and helped with the re-occupation of the Ministry building. The whole wizarding community bustled with joyful activity.

The good news had spread from Hogwarts, but the atmosphere at the wizarding school did not change as quickly as everywhere else. In the castle, the general mood was oddly subdued for a few more hours. While the rest of the country was one big party already, the students at Hogwarts seemed reluctant to join the celebrations. They still suffered from shock after witnessing Voldemort's final battle.

All of them had believed Snape to be a murderer and traitor and were quite surprised that he had just defended their Headmistress's life against Voldemort. Many of them had also never truly realised what powerful wizards most of the adults living at Hogwarts were – after all, the students had only know them as their teachers, not as members of a secret resistance organisation.

Seeing their strict and sensible Headmistress duelling Voldemort had impressed and shocked many of the children. They would never have imagined to see her employ the darkest kind of magic, let alone to use is as a means of revenge after the assumed death of Dumbledore's murderer.

But by and by, the students cheered up. Harry and Neville were their heroes now; and while many did wonder if Snape would survive his injuries, they had never liked him enough to truly worry about him now.

Late in the afternoon, most of them had received return-owls from happy friends and relatives. By early evening, almost everyone had assembled in the Great Hall again. The house-elves had cleared away the traces of the battle, and Professor Flitwick did some quick charm-work to decorate the place brightly. Dinner turned into a festive celebration, which then changed into a joyful party.

Around eleven in the evening, a special edition of the Daily Prophet was given out for free. The whole story of the Order of the Phoenix and the Hogwarts Battle was related there. Minerva noticed the delivery owls arriving at Hogwarts, but did not read the paper. She was to busy worrying about Snape's condition.

Everyone else - not only at Hogwarts, but in all of the country - was very interested in the articles which all were based on information provided by Hermione. Minerva McGonagall became famous not only for the work she had done as Head of the Order of the Phoenix, but also as the second know person to survive the Avada Kedavra curse. The details of Dumbledore's death were explained. Hermione had made sure that the article left no doubt that Snape was to be considered a war hero instead of a Death Eater.

She had also seen to it that Sirius's name was cleared in the same issue of the Daily Prophet. Harry and Neville simply became known as the 'Hero Duo' – a label Rita Skeeter had quickly made up in need of a catchy phrase. Both of the boys were a bit embarrassed about the tag line. Augusta Longbottom, on the other hand, memorised every article about them and could not stop telling everyone how proud she was of her grandson.

Once in full swing, the celebrations at Hogwarts lasted half the night. Most of the people from Hogsmeade had come to the castle, and all of the members of the Order had returned from their day tasks. Even those students who had been hurt had recovered enough to join the party around midnight.

Finally, Harry and Neville were the only ones left in the hospital wing. Both of them felt too overwhelmed and exhausted to go down into the Great Hall. The 'Hero Duo' did not feel like joining the celebrations in their honour. Poppy Pomfrey let them stay while she went to check on Snape again. He had remained unconscious all day.

Just when Harry and Neville were trying to decide what to do next, Minerva once more came to see them and Snape in the hospital wing. She brought Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna along with her. Although Ginny and Harry were still not exactly on speaking terms, Minerva had noticed Ginny lingering in the hallway leading to the hospital wing almost all afternoon.

"Harry? Neville?" she asked softly. "How are you?"

Harry shrugged, but smiled. "Okay, I'd say."

Neville nodded. "How are you, Professor?" he added after inspecting the Headmistress for a moment.

She still wore the same robes of dark green tartan she had worn in the battle that morning. They were ripped, full of scorch marks, and stained with large patches of blood – most likely both her own and other people's. She had washed her face, but the wound on her forehead still was smeared with dried blood. The tight bun of her hair had loosened and several strands curled down the nape of her neck.

"I'll live," she said dryly. Pointing to the students behind her, she added, "Your friends did not want to join the celebrations without you."

"We don't feel much like celebrating," Harry informed her.

Minerva smiled sadly. "Neither do I."

She looked at the closed door to the sickroom. "How is he?"

"Unchanged." Harry and Neville exchanged an uncomfortable look.

"Madam Pomfrey would not let us in," Neville explained, "I think it does not look good."

Minerva pressed her lips together, and then nodded. With fast, determined steps she strode over to the door and opened without knocking.

"Poppy?" She went inside without waiting for a reply.

"Minerva!" the school nurse exclaimed. "It's about time you came to see me."

"_You_ sent me away earlier," Minerva replied pointedly.

"Because you got in the way all the time. But you do need treatment yourself."

"Later. How is he?"

Poppy did not reply immediately. Minerva walked over to Snape's bed and looked down at him. He hardly seemed to breathe at all.

"Out with it. I need to know."

Poppy Pomfrey sighed. "Not good. Not good at all. Minerva, I am not sure if he will live."

There was another moment of silence, but then she continued in a more professional voice.

"From what I can see, he was submitted to serious torture. Burn marks and wounds all over his body. He must have lost a lot of blood. Several broken ribs, and his right arm is broken. Usually I could mend that in an hour, but he is so weak… the healing process has only just begun. He's feverish for some reason. I have tested his blood but not yet found out if poison actually is the cause. I don't know how he managed to stay upright when he arrived here. – Minerva, shielding you against that curse must have taken his last bit of strength. He may be too weak to recover."

"I was afraid you might say that." Minerva's voice was strained. "But thank you for telling me. I need to know the truth."

"Let's go back into the treatment room," Pomfrey said softly.

Carefully, she nudged Minerva away from the sickbed. "You need to get that wound cleaned out, and I am sure you have some other injuries, too."

The two witches went back into the room where Harry and the others sat waiting. Minerva had the impression that they were staring at her in shock; maybe she had not properly closed the door and the students had heard their short discussion.

Quietly she allowed Madam Pomfrey to clean out the wound on her forehead. When all the crusted blood had been washed away, it became obvious that the cut was indeed of exactly the same shape as Harry's scar.

"The same lightning bolt," Poppy stated. "Only it's a little bit smaller, and a little closer to the hairline than Harry's. Quite extraordinary, really."

"I wonder why it's smaller?" Ron asked.

"Possibly that has to do with the strength of the person stopping the curse?" As always, Luna dreamily spoke what was on her mind.

"I mean, Harry's mother was a skilled witch of course, but it seems that Professor Snape is an extremely powerful wizard. Maybe he could provide even better protection?"

"I don't think it is that easy, Miss Lovegood," Minerva answered. "But then again, it might be. It is a subject we don't know anything about."

"What are you going to do now?" Poppy Pomfrey asked. "Aren't you all going to join the feast down there?"

Ron grimaced. "Don't really feel like it. But then again, if Harry and Neville don't go, those folks down there will soon start searching the castle for them."

"That's true," Neville sighed. "Come on, Harry, let's go down there for half an hour. We just have to show our faces for a few minutes, and then we can go into hiding again."

"Alright." Harry got up. "What about you, Professor?"

Minerva hesitated. She knew she was expected to join the party as well.

"I think Poppy has not had anything to eat all day – have you? Why don't you go and take a break. I will stay here in the meantime and join the celebrations later."

Poppy agreed reluctantly. It was not like her to leave a patient alone, but she had indeed worked all day and would stay awake for the night.

"I will be back in half an hour. You call me if you need any help here."

The school nurse and the students left for the Great Hall. Finally alone, Minerva returned into the sickroom and closed the door behind her. She placed a chair next to Snape's bed and sat down quietly, mustering him closely. His breathing was so shallow that for one dreadful moment she was unsure if he and not died in the meantime.

"Wake up, Severus," she whispered desperately. "Please wake up, don't die on me."

She lightly caressed his face with her fingertips. He did not react at all.

Minerva felt tears welling up and covered her face with her hands. Poppy would return within minutes and she did not want to be found crying, but she could not stop herself. Sobbing hard, she bent forward and rested her arms and head on Snape's bed.

The pain of seeing him like this was too much to bear. Minerva bit her lip to have something else to concentrate on, but the physical pain did not overshadow the emotional agony. The tears she had held back all day could now not be restrained any more. She wept so hard that she did not hear when the door was opened.

"Minerva?" a gentle voice whispered.

Hermione had entered the room and locked the door behind her. Carefully, she came closer and put a hand on Minerva's shoulder. Minerva looked up for a second, but even now she could not control her hysterical crying. Helplessly, she allowed Hermione to comfort her.

After a few minutes, Minerva was finally able to speak again. She raised her head and looked at the young witch standing next to her.

"Why did you come back?"

"You were there for me when I cried my eyes out," Hermione said. "Now it's my turn to be there for you."

Minerva swallowed again. She took Hermione's hand and squeezed it gratefully.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Poppy Pomfrey returned to the hospital wing twenty minutes later, she found the Headmistress sitting alone by Snape's bedside. Minerva knew that her eyes still were red, but she managed to appear calm otherwise.

Poppy checked Snape's vital signs again.

"No change," she said.

Minerva nodded. "I know, I checked maybe two minutes ago."

"How do you feel? You don't look so good either."

"I'm fine. It's been a rough day, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Minerva, stop playing the hero, please!" Poppy was vexed.

"We all thought this man a murderer of the worst kind, and today suddenly he shows up and saves your life. And what's more, you did not seem surprised when he appeared; on the contrary, You-Know-Who said he was your spy. You knew he was on our side"

"I did know," Minerva sighed. "So did the rest of the Order. He has been our spy for months. We could not tell anyone else, it was too dangerous."

"That much I figured."

"Then what do you mean?"

"Come on, you and Severus have always had this strange rivalling friendship. If you trusted him even after Dumbledore's death, and the others did, too, that does mean… I don't know, but this friendship bond is still there. If I was you, I'd feel terrible after what happened today."

"That I do," Minerva admitted. "I don't want him to pay with his life for saving me."

Her voice betrayed that she was on the verge of crying again. Poppy handed her a handkerchief, but she blinked the tears away.

"Go down to the feast for a few minutes," Poppy said. "If they are to believe that whole story, they need to _see_ that you are truly alive and in control everything. And then you will go and get some rest. I promise I will wake you should anything happen here."

Her tone made it clear that she would not accept any protest. Minerva slowly rose from her seat and left the room.

Poppy Pomfrey checked on her patient every hour that night. She pretended not to see the tabby cat that had sneaked into the room after the feast had ended.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next morning at dawn, Minerva the cat stole out of the hospital wing again and went up to her own rooms. This was one of the occasions when she felt deeply grateful that she had gone through with all the trouble of Animagus training – although almost everyone knew that she could turn into a tabby cat with black markings around her eyes, changing shape usually allowed her to roam about the castle unnoticed. There were simply too many cats around for one more to attract any attention.

Back in her own rooms, she changed back into human shape. It was funny how the rooms felt different when she was in cat shape, it was as if the magic objects in the office tried to catch her attention and wanted to be examined closely. Dismissing the thought, she shed off the stained, torn robes she still wore and quickly took a shower. She got dressed for the day, then she went down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The house-elves had outdone themselves. The hall was spotlessly clean and breakfast appeared on the tables as usual, even though the elves could not have had more than two hours to prepare the Great Hall. Minerva made a mental note to go down to the kitchens as soon as possible and compliment them on their good work.

With everything going on, the next few days turned out to be very busy for all the members of the Order. Arthur Weasley and some other Ministry wizards set to work on clearing the Ministry building in London. They had not much trouble; in fact, the building willingly changed back to its normal state.

Molly and Fleur Weasley went to St. Mungo's and helped coordinating the re-opening of the hospital for the public. Fred and George immediately re-opened their shop in Diagon Alley and came back to Hogwarts reporting that quite a few of the other shop owners there had returned, too.

Tonks and Moody set out together with Lupin and Bill Weasley in search of remaining Death Eaters. They were soon joined by other Aurors, most of who turned up at Hogwarts emerging from extraordinary hiding places.

For some reason, everybody continued reporting to Minerva all the time. The Head of the Order of the Phoenix was now expected to direct the rebuilding of the wizarding society.

Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet could hardly be kept out of Hogwarts; she was keen on every bit of information that could be collected. Minerva finally asked Hermione and Ginny to go over all the facts with Rita again, so that at least no misunderstood or made-up facts would be told to the general public.

Harry and Neville both set a wonderful example for being modest heroes. Two days after killing Voldemort, they gave one interview together and related all the facts they knew. In the end, they asked to be left alone by the public.

Strangely enough, most people seemed to understand this wish and more or less obeyed it. The boys still received hundreds of cards and fan letters congratulating them on fulfilling the prophecy that had obviously meant both of them, but only few of the letters addressed to them contained requests for photos or interviews.

For the sensational press, Sirius Black and Severus Snape were far more interesting characters. 'Our misunderstood dark heroes' both were mentioned in every issue of the Daily Prophet.

Long editorials were written, clearing Sirus's name and explaining the whole story about Peter Pettigrew's betrayal seventeen years ago. But Sirius was dead.

The general public's attention was focused on Severus Snape. The fact that everyone had thought him Voldemort's second-in-command when he had indeed worked against the dark wizard was interesting enough; but that he had in the end been willing to sacrifice his life to save the Head of the Order was the one topic everyone was obsessed with.

Snape's sinister past combined with the recent events created a certain dark glamour.

All of a sudden, he became quite popular – after Rita's articles, fan post and get well cards from all over the country began to arrive at Hogwarts. Snape, of course, knew nothing of this. His condition had not improved at all.

Rita Skeeter even tried sneaking into the hospital wing where, but Madam Pomfrey stopped her in time and threatened to curse her nose off if she ever came near a patient again.

Minerva hardly spent any time in her rooms, but travelled back and forth between Hogwarts and the Ministry in London. Every time she entered her rooms, she again had that feeling that something was trying to catch her attention; but she simply had not enough time to think about it.

Most likely what distracted her was nothing but the unusual high piles of post on her desk – she had had to ask a house-elf to pre-sort the incoming post for her because suddenly half of the British wizarding community seemed in want to communicate with her.

In the meantime, Minerva and some ministry officials had agreed that the end of the war called for a formal celebration. They had decided on having this function at Hogwarts on Saturday, mostly because the Ministry building still was not entirely cleared of all dark magic.

The preparations for the feast were going on already. Luckily, the Hogwarts House Heads and Molly Weasley took care of this; Minerva was simply overworked alone with coordinating the invitations and the housing of the guests expected. With all the ministry workers, Aurors, wizarding community leaders, friends of the Order, and of course everyone living in Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, there would altogether be well over a thousand people.

In a weak moment, she had given the Weasley twins permission to decorate the Great Hall for Saturday, and they had enthusiastically risen to the occasion. A group of older students together with Professor Flitwick helped them with the charm work required.

Madam Maxime arrived early and spent much time with Hagrid and his brother. The house-elves in the kitchen were so busy with preparations for the feast that for the first time in Hogwarts history students complained about the food quality at the regular meals. Lessons were cancelled until the celebrations.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With everything going on, Minerva still went to the hospital wing as often as she could and dared without drawing to much attention to herself.

Hermione now assisted Poppy Pomfrey and the two witches took turns in watching over Snape. They sat by his bedside all day and checked on him hourly during the night, but there was not much else they could do for him. Although nobody spoke of it openly, general opinion was that Snape was dying slowly.

Every night, Minerva sneaked into his room and sat by his bedside, crying most of the time. She was careful to transfigure into her cat shape and hide when she heard Poppy or Hermione approaching, but suspected that they knew of her presence there anyway. She knew that it was foolish to spend her nights awake by his side, but felt it was the least she could do.

Naturally, the lack of sleep was a problem. Overworked and overly tired, Minerva knew that she could not go on like this for days. In fact, by Wednesday evening she collapsed just walking down a corridor next to Moody. While they were discussing some details of where to house the guests expected for Saturday, she suddenly grew dizzy and everything went black around her.

Only seconds later she regained consciousness, lying on the floor in Moody's arms. Mercifully, no one else was around who could have seen her. Moody insisted on taking her to the hospital wing, his arm firmly around her waist. Although she pretended to protest against this treatment, she had to admit that she was glad he was there because she did feel to faint to walk alone.

Both Poppy and Hermione were in the hospital wing when Moody finally dragged her trough the door. Although she protested vehemently, he lifted her on one of the beds and held her down.

"You will lie down at least until Poppy has examined you. If necessary I'll stay here and stun you if you try getting up."

"Let me go!" she hissed back, pushing his hands away. "There is nothing wrong with me; I just need to get some rest."

"Exactly," Poppy cut in. "Alastor, do get out, I can't examine her with you here by her bed."

The nurse ushered Moody out of the room, then returned to Minerva's bed. Muttering some spells, she checked her vital signs at the same time. Finally she looked at Minerva sternly.

"You do know exactly what the problem is."

"I told you, there is nothing wrong with me. I just lack some sleep."

"That _is_ the problem," Hermione said. She and Poppy Pomfrey exchanged one short look.

"Minerva," Poppy said exasperated, "we're not stupid. We know that you have spent the last three nights here watching over him. You cannot go on with this, you need to rest."

"I know," Minerva replied crossly. Although she had suspected that the both of them knew, she now felt more than a little embarrassed.

"I think I know what you're going trough," Poppy said.

Minerva gave her a stern look, trying to shut the nurse up.

"This is called survivor's guilt," Poppy went on.

"That happens quite often. You survived, and Severus here is closer to death than to life because he shielded you. It's only natural that you should feel indebted to him. But worrying by his bedside will not bring him back to life. He's already survived three days when I had expected him to die within hours – he might just make it after all."

"That perfectly makes sense. Survivor's guilt is a common experience in cases like this." Hermione added in a very serious voice.

"Do get some sleep. Should anything happen here –" Hermione gestured to Snape's bed, "I promise we'll wake you."

"Exactly," Poppy said. "Listen, Minerva, it is important that you forgive yourself for surviving. And it is very important that you take care of yourself. I'll give you some Pepper-Up Potion, and then you will go back to your room and get some sleep, or I'll keep you here and force you to lie down – in a different room."

Knowing that she had no choice, Minerva agreed reluctantly. Still a little shaky, she got up from the bed after a taking the potion and walked back to her rooms behind the stone gargoyle.

Moody had waited outside the hospital rooms and insisted on escorting her to her rooms. Watching him stomp away after saying goodnight, Minerva smiled to herself. She thought it rather touching how caring the old wizard could be under all his gruff appearance – he was much like Hagrid in that way.

Entering her office, she checked if any new post had arrived on her desk. She had spent so little time in her rooms over the last few days that they felt almost unfamiliar to her. And again something in this room appeared strange. She looked around carefully.

There. Suddenly she realised what had been trying to catch her attention for three days. Dumbledore's Pensieve in the corner had unfrozen.

She had become so accustomed to it being a lifeless object that she had never paid it much attention any more. Curiously, she examined it closer. The Pensieve now was back in full working order, just as it had been in Dumbledore's lifetime. Surprised, she found that instead of memories swirling in the silver mist, a small, red package sat inside the Pensieve. Her name was written on it in Dumbledore's handwriting.

Forgetting her promise to go to bed immediately, she snatched the package out of the silver mist and put it on her desk. She opened it carefully, and found it to contain two small crystal phials and a letter. With watering eyes, she read Dumbledore's last message to her.

_Minerva my dear,_

_If you are reading this, it means that I am dead, and have probably been dead for a long time. Please forgive me for sending you this last farewell in such an inappropriate fashion – I will try to explain the circumstances._

_Just a minute ago, I awoke from what you might call a day-dream with the feeling of absolute certainty that I shall die within the next few hours. You know that sometimes our kind feel their death approaching – it is possible that this is what I just experienced. The timing could not be more inconvenient. Young Harry and I shall set out and attempt to retrieve one of Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes in just a few minutes. You are somewhere in the castle, patrolling the corridors, and there is no time to find you now and to tell you what I should already have explained weeks, even months, ago._

_It is possible that I will die tonight in the attempt to find the Horcrux. It also is possible that I will die at the hands of Severus, and Minerva, this is how I __wish__ to die._

_Let me explain. Late last summer, Narcissa Malfoy forced Severus to take an Unbreakable Vow. There was no way he could have avoided it, although I know he still blames himself for doing it. He had no choice. It was only later that we found out this Vow will bind him to end my life._

_If he has done so by now that you are reading these lines, please do not blame him for it. I doubt he will ever forgive himself if you don't. He was fully prepared to die not fulfilling the Vow, and it was I who ordered him to go through with it. I am still not convinced he will do it, but I sincerely hope so. He will not only save his life and continue to be able to oppose Voldemort, he will also save Draco Malfoy's life by doing so._

_I have included two of my memories with this letter. They will explain this arrangement better than I could do it just now. Minerva, by entering those memories you will also learn rather personal things about Severus and me._

_You will find that in one certain aspect, I was a fool for many decades. My dear, I beg you to forgive me. And should you ever find yourself in a similar situation – you will understand once you've seen those memories – do not make the mistakes I made but listen__ only to your heart._

_I promised Severus I would tell you of our plan. The one reason why I kept putting it off is that I feared how I myself would react. I was a coward. I kept putting this task off; telling myself that there was still time for it, that I would do it at the end of the school-year... Now it may be too late and all I can do is scribble a few hasty words on a parchment instead of doing both you and Severus justice by fully explaining._

_Minerva, I have to hide this letter and the memories for you to find only when it is save. Should anything of this ever become known to Lord Voldemort's disciples, Severus's life will be forfeit – and most likely your's as well. I shall put this farewell to you in my Pensieve, which is enchanted to store it until the time of Lord Voldemort's defeat._

_My love, please forgive an old man his foolishness. I made a terrible mistake by not telling you of our plans. I doubt that Severus will ever have come to speak to you, so if he is still alive, please do seek him and tell him that you now know the truth. He needs you._

_Albus_

Overwhelmed, Minerva sat back after reading the letter. She stared at Dumbledore's portrait on the wall, wondering what it must have been like for him to write down these words. Most likely he had been sitting in the very chair she occupied now.

She examined the phials. There were no labels or any other clues as to what they might contain. She emptied both of them into the Pensieve and then lowered her face into it, trusting that she would enter the oldest memory first. There was that moment of discomfort she always experienced when working with a Pensieve, then she found herself in the first memory.

She was in the Headmaster's office, in Dumbledore's office. Outside, it was pitch-dark. Dumbledore sat at his table, already wearing his nightshirt and a dark blue dressing gown embroidered with silver stars. The Daily Prophet on his desk told her that the year was 1980.

Suddenly, there was a sound as if someone was knocking on the door, or rather, against the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance down in the corridor. Dumbledore called out his own password ("Lemon drop") and Minerva heard the gargoyle moving aside, followed by heavy steps on the spiral staircase. Moments later, Snape entered the office.

Her heart missed a beat as she mustered the young man. In 1980, he must have been, what, 22 years old? There was that familiar, hook-nosed face, the curtain of black hair, the black robes he had always preferred. But young Snape's hair was longer than he wore it now, and his face appeared so different without the lines that were now etched into it.

The young man who entered the Dumbledore's office looked angry and sad at the same time. Dumbledore stood up.

"Severus Snape," he said, smiling politely. "Quite a surprise, I must say."

"Professor," Snape nodded his head for a greeting. Now that he was in the office, he seemed undecided as for what to do next.

"Do sit down, Mr Snape. I daresay you are not here to apply for a job again?"

Dumbledore gestured to a chair in front of his desk and sat down himself.

Snape remained standing. All of a sudden, he took two steps forward and placed his wand on Dumbledore's desk. Minerva was immediately reminded of the way he had always surrendered his wand to her before she had started trusting him again.

"There," Snape said resolutely, "take it. I have come to give myself up."

Dumbledore took the wand and pocketed it.

"Do you mean to imply that the rumours one hears about your person are true? Have you indeed become one of the Death Eaters?"

Snape rolled up his left sleeve and showed Dumbledore the Dark Mark on his forearm.

"Yes," he said harshly, "I thought you would know that."

"I did know," Dumbledore replied quietly, "I simply wanted to hear it out of your own mouth."

"It is true. Or rather, it was true. Like I said, I have come to give myself up."

"Have you now." Dumbledore surveyed the young man closely. "If that is true, I must say I am very glad to hear it."

Snape shrugged. "Just take me to Azkaban," he said in a low voice. "To the Wizengamot, to Azkaban, I don't care any more."

"What has happened that made you change your mind?"

"I'd rather not say that."

"I am afraid I still want to hear about it."

The two men looked at each other for a moment.

"Won't you sit down? You will be more comfortable," Dumbledore added civilly.

Snape let himself drop into the chair. He avoided Dumbledore's gaze and stared at the bookshelf behind the old wizard.

"The Dark Lord has set me a task I cannot fulfil," he finally said. "I could go back and tell him some story as to why I did not do it but… it is not that I could not do this, I do not want to do it."

"Why do you not want to do it?"

"I am not _that_ evil." Snape still avoided his eyes.

"Well, I am pleased to hear that." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "That task that you were ordered to do – that was here at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Snape admitted reluctantly. "Did you know about it?"

"No. But you coming here in the middle of the night seemed a bit of a spur-of-the-moment action. I presume you came here still planning to go through with your orders."

"Not quite." Snape bit his lip unconsciously.

"Then why did you come here?"

"To say goodbye," Snape snapped. "My task would have been here, and the reason why I won't do it is here, and now I've come to surrender and that's it."

"Minerva will be delighted to hear it," the Headmaster said quietly.

Snape flinched. He stared at Dumbledore, who returned his gaze calmly.

"I suppose your task had to do with her?"

"How did you know?"

"I must admit that I did some guessing right now."

Snape pressed his lips together and looked away from Dumbledore, who continued matter-of-factly.

"Professors Flitwick and McGonagall are the only targets here at school that I think Voldemort would consider a threat to him – apart from me. I also think you would have told me if he had sent you here to harm me. The same goes for Professor Flitwick. If you did not want to tell me, it had to be someone you had a personal connection to."

"I have no personal connection to Professor McGonagall. I was in Slytherin House, remember?"

"But you liked her. Quite a bit, if I am not mistaken."

Snape shot a furious glace at Dumbledore. "So I liked her when I was a school boy here. Not that uncommon, I suppose. She is the best teacher Hogwarts has."

"No, certainly not that uncommon, especially with an attractive teacher like her. But your reaction just now made it clear that you still care enough about her not to murder her in cold blood."

"Well yes, that was the reason, alright? I cannot kill people I know personally. I am obviously not evil enough to be a Death Eater."

Dumbledore watched the angry young man for a few minutes.

"I do believe you are not evil," he finally said. "But your reason is not that you are unable to murder those you know personally. I think your reason is that you have found out that you never lost the ability to care for someone else."

Snape again avoided Dumbledore's eyes. His lips remained pressed together into a thin line.

"Mr Snape, I am sure you know that by giving yourself up, you face a life sentence in Azkaban, which is as good as a death sentence."

"Yes," Snape replied harshly.

"You told me a minute ago that you could have returned to your master and made up some excuse for not murdering Minerva. Is that true? Can you lie to the man who calls himself Lord Voldemort?"

"It takes a lot of concentration, but it is possible to lie to him."

"Quite interesting. So why did you come to me? You could have avoided this task, yet you chose to leave Voldemort forever and face the Wizengamot's verdict."

Snape did not answer for a long time. He kept his eyes fixed on one of the books on Dumbledore's desk.

"Someone else might just have taken over my task," he said in the end. "I thought that by giving myself up, I might be able to give you a warning… I can name a list of people who are in danger…"

His voice trailed off. Still he did not look at Dumbledore. The old wizard smiled.

"Mr Snape? Severus?" he called him. Snape finally looked up.

"I am very proud of you. You are basically saying that even now, four years after leaving this school, you care enough for my deputy to give up your life just to save hers."

Snape pressed his lips together. He made the tiniest movement with his head, a move Minerva had often seen during their own furious arguments over the past years. It was the gesture Snape made when he reluctantly agreed to something he did not like to admit was true.

The memory abruptly broke off there. Before Minerva had enough time to think about what she had just learned, she felt herself being pulled out of the scene and plunged into another one.

Again, she found herself in Dumbledore's office, but this scenery seemed from a more recent time. Minerva did not find a newspaper or anything that would tell her the date, but the objects assembled in the room appeared very familiar. On a small cabinet near the desk, she saw a book that she had given Dumbledore for Christmas only three years ago.

Dumbledore sat in the tall chair behind his desk. Snape stood by the window, looking out into what appeared to be a chilly spring afternoon. None of them spoke for a long time.

Finally Snape turned around and looked at Dumbledore. He wore an expression of extreme stubbornness on his face – another look Minerva knew very well.

"Severus, there is no way around it," Dumbledore said. "We've been over this a dozen times. We cannot go on fighting about the matter – I think two days ago Hagrid overheard us. I will soon die anyway. You will have to do it."

"I won't," Snape simply said.

"You have to. If you don't care about saving your own life, save Draco's at least."

"It's a choice between sacrificing your life or Draco's life. You know where my loyalties lie."

"And you know what I care about!" Dumbledore's voice had more than a trace of irritation in it. "Surely you cannot suggest that a young boy's life is worth less than my own."

"To me it is. Draco is a spoilt child who has become a Death Eater like his father. You are the only one who might be able to overthrow the Dark Lord."

"That is not true. Harry will in the end have to defeat Voldemort. My life has nothing to do with it."

Snape shook his head. "I will not kill you."

"Severus, you will be able to save the boy! Give him a second chance; after all, you had one, too."

Dumbledore got up from his chair and stomped over to where Snape stood. Minerva had hardly ever seen him that angry.

"Severus, we have been over this! It is the rational thing to do. You will survive. Draco will survive. I would soon die anyway."

He held up his withered hand.

"Headmaster, I cannot do this. Don't force me!" Snape hissed back.

"Why not, Severus, why?"

"Because I will not kill someone I care about. You of all people should know that."

Snape looked furious. Admitting emotions definitely was not his strong side.

"You are my friend, Dumbledore, if I can call anyone my friend. I will not murder you."

Dumbledore stopped dead, the fury disappearing from his expression. He studied Snape's twisted face closely.

"Is that what it is? That it reminds you of past times?" he said after a moment. He heaved a great sigh.

"But do you think I could forgive myself if you sacrificed your life for me? Severus, sometimes I feel you are the son I never had."

"Wish I'd had a father like you," Snape said brusquely, but Minerva saw that he meant it.

Dumbledore appeared to be touched, too.

"Please do this for me," he simply said. "It is not only the one logical choice – you'd also be doing an old man a big favour. Allow me to save your life by dying at your hands."

Snape drew in a deep breath.

He turned away from Dumbledore and again looked out of the window. Minerva followed his gaze and saw herself standing in the court down below, discussing something with a student. Snape watched her for several minutes. Dumbledore waited patiently beside him.

"One condition," Snape whispered. "I will do it under one condition."

"What is that?" Dumbledore asked gently.

He, too, now looked out of the window. Minerva saw herself walking away in the direction of Hagrid's hut.

"You tell her," Snape said. "I don't care if the whole world thinks me a murderer, but she must know the truth."

"The one conversation I dread. Telling Minerva that I am to die soon."

Dumbledore sighed.

"But it's fair enough, Severus. I will tell her. She will not hate you."

"She will hate me anyway. But at least she will know it was your wish that made me do it, and not the Dark Lord's command."

Snape's voice was bitter. He turned away from the window.

"I could do with a drink," Dumbledore said quietly. "You?"

Snape nodded. Dumbledore went into his living room and returned with two glasses of firewhiskey.

"Here." He handed Snape one of them.

"Promise me you will do it? Save your life and Draco's?"

"If you tell her."

They drank in silence. Minerva saw that Snape's hand holding the glass was shaking slightly. Dumbledore settled down in his big desk chair again. He looked preoccupied and exhausted.

"Why did you say you dread telling Minerva about this plan?" Snape asked after a few minutes. "She of all people will understand your reasoning for self-sacrifice."

"She will understand, yes," Dumbledore sighed. "But… ah, old people tend to foolishly spill secrets on their deathbeds. If I tell her I am to die soon, I hope this will not lead to discussions that would make the situation even more complicated."

"You mean you are afraid that when you say goodbye to her, you will tell her that you love her," Snape said.

"Yes," Dumbledore admitted, somewhat surprised. "And I have no right to do so. I must not tell her."

"That thought sounds familiar," Snape said cynically.

Minerva could not believe it. She had known that Snape and Dumbledore had been closer than most people suspected, but that they should have talked of such private matters came as a surprise to her.

"Headmaster, what is this nonsense about no right to tell her?" Snape finally said, in a very controlled voice. "I am sure she feels the same way about you."

"No," Dumbledore said decidedly. "She does not."

The old wizard played with a silver quill on his table – Minerva recognised it as another Christmas gift she had given him a long time ago.

"She did, many years ago. I'm trying not to sound arrogant, but I know she loved me for the better part of her life. And I kept saying no. I kept telling her that I was too old, that it was inappropriate to love a former student – well, she was 17 or 18 when I told her that. For decades she waited for me to change my mind. But then her feelings changed instead."

"You think so?"

"I know. We really became friends when she stopped loving me, and that was when I realised what I had lost… I have no right to bind her to me now. I kept her away from me for so many years – it would simply not be fair to confess my love now a few months before my death. I know she does not love me any more, not romantically.

She would either say no and our friendship would suffer, or she would say yes out of pity – neither option sounds too good. And I'd betray a friend with that relationship."

Snape drank the rest of his firewhiskey.

"Maybe you are right," he said pensively. "I can see your point. Anyway, it really is none of my business."

"In a way it is," Dumbledore protested gently. "You are the friend that I was talking about. I would not start a relationship with a woman my friend loves – I hope so, at least. That is why I dread speaking to her so much. I sincerely hope I will not utter any desperate last wishes."

"You wouldn't. You have too much self-control."

"I like to think that I wouldn't. But there are moments when I feel so weak, so old, so desperately alone… I simply am afraid to touch the subject. Saying goodbye to her when we've been so close all her life, and half of mine – it will be quite emotional."

They were silent for another few minutes. Both men appeared lost in their own thoughts.

"You have never told her of _your_ feelings, have you?" Dumbledore suddenly said.

His gentle voice made it clear that this was not a real question; he knew the answer.

"Of course not. Never have and never will."

"Maybe you should."

"Why? I would ruin something like a friendship. We constantly argue, but at least we respect each other."

"It's not just 'something like a friendship' you two have, Severus. Minerva genuinely likes you. It almost broke her heart when you joined the Death Eaters. The two of you may constantly quarrel over minor issues, but you do so over taking long walks, playing chess, watching your Quidditch teams and so on. She spends more time with you than with any other friend."

"Then it is even more important that I should not risk this friendship."

"It is up to you, of course. I just thought… I made this mistake of rejecting her love for a long time. Maybe she would not make the same mistake just because you are her former student."

"I don't see that happening. This is just not – natural." Snape firmly shook his head.

"Severus, she may appear much older too you, but remember – to me she still appears a young woman. And there were times when I thought she might see more than 'just a friend' in you someday."

Snape shot a quizzical look at Dumbledore, but then he shook his head again. Dumbledore smiled a little.

"Do you remember how upset she was at Christmas three years ago when I dared to seat Sybil between the two of you? Poor Sybil never knew what caused Minerva to pick on her like that."

Snape grinned slyly. "That conversation was quite amusing."

"Oh yes. And I did hear about it later that night when I happened to meet her again in the staff room. She basically stormed at me… something about how she had gotten so used to seeing your sour-looking face that your bad mood had become part of her Christmas tradition. She had definitely not appreciated having a friendlier person by her side for once."

Dumbledore smiled affectionately when he remembered the scene, but Snape had grown serious again.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"So you are going to spend the rest of your young life working next to the woman you have loved ever since you were sixteen years old?"

"I was seventeen, not sixteen." Snape smiled sadly, "And we have a war going on. My life might not be that long, and who knows where I will spend it."

The memory ended there. Minerva drew her head back from the Pensieve. She had not noticed that she had started crying again, but now she felt hot tears running down her cheeks.

"Ever since he was seventeen…" she whispered.

Minerva knew that Dumbledore had been right. She had spent more time with Snape than with any other friend, even if they had usually quarrelled during those hours. For long years, they had sat next to each other at the staff table every day, and yet she had never had any idea what it had meant to him to spend time with her.

And she had never known that she herself had been his reason to leave Voldemort forever. No wonder that Dumbledore had never told anyone what his iron-clad reason for trusting Snape had been.

Utterly exhausted, Minerva staggered into her bedroom und collapsed on the bed without undressing. Learning all of this about the two most important men in her life had been a bit too much. She desperately wanted to go and see Snape, but knew that she could not. All she could do was hope and pray that he would survive.


	12. Through the Eyes of the Others

Snape did, after all, wake up again. He emerged from his coma on Thursday morning. Outside it was dawning, but thick clouds of fog hung around the castle. Still not fully awake, he blinked in the dim light and found Hermione sitting in a chair next to his bed. The young witch was grinning broadly.

"How do you feel, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"How is – everyone?" he croaked with some effort.

"She is alright, Professor. Everyone is alright. Voldemort is dead."

Snape drifted off into sleep again. The next time he awoke, Hermione had fetched Madam Pomfrey. Seeing him come round, she immediately started muttering a complicated diagnostic spell.

"It's a miracle you're alive," she finally stated.

"I didn't expect it," Snape groaned. "What happened?"

"Don't move," Poppy Pomfrey commanded. "You still have broken bones; you were too weak for them to heal. But don't worry, now that you've woken up it won't take long."

She straightened up and checked the clock on the wall. "Ten to six. I'll go and wake her, she'll be livid if I don't."

Hermione nodded. "I'll stay here."

Poppy swept out of the room.

"What – happened?" Snape repeated.

"Quite a bit. You've been out cold for four days. Madam Pomfrey has gone to fetch Minerva."

"Shouldn't wake her."

Snape still sounded somewhat benumbed, although Hermione heard that he tried hard not to.

"Oh, I know we _shouldn't _–" Hermione laughed. "But I would not want to risk her anger if we didn't."

Snape's eyes narrowed. Hermione grew serious again.

"She's spent three nights crying by your bedside," she said matter-of-factly. "Yesterday evening, she collapsed with lack of sleep. We forced her go to bed and swore to wake her immediately should your condition change."

Snape did not reply and Hermione thought it safer to fill him in on the other developments of the last few days.

"Harry and Neville succeeded. Voldemort is dead."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. He is dead for good."

"Harry _and Neville_?" Snape frowned. "Neville Longbottom?"

"It appears the prophecy applied to both of them after all. They had to work together."

Snape closed his eyes for a moment and slowly drew in a deep breath.

"And the others?"

"Many of the Death Eaters surrendered. Others are still at large, but few. We have a new Minister for Magic."

"Who?"

"Arthur Weasley," Hermione smiled. "Of course that's transitional only until proper elections will be held. But he runs the Ministry for now."

"So we have the Ministry building back."

"Yes. All sealed rooms are open again, except for the History Department. No one has gotten past your guarding spells."

A twisted smile appeared on Snape's lips, but he said nothing.

"St Mungo's is admitting patients again. Most shops in Diagon Alley will re-open shortly or are open already. Hogsmeade still is one big party. For Saturday, a big formal celebration is planned here in Hogwarts."

"And the others here? The Order? The students?"

"Quite a few got hurt. But it's nothing too serious. Don't be shocked when you see Minerva, she's got a scar like Harry's now."

Snape closed his eyes once more. Hermione got up and went to the window, thinking he had drifted out of consciousness again.

"Why do you call her by first name?" Snape suddenly asked behind her.

"She asked me to." Hermione hesitated, not quite knowing what to say. "We've become friends."

Hermione could feel Snape's gaze boring into her back. Slowly, she turned around and faced him.

"General opinion is that you wanted to make up for killing Dumbledore by saving her – you know, redemption for killing the White King by saving the White Queen."

"The white – what?"

"Rita Skeeter," Hermione growled. "So pleased with her allegories. Bellatrix Lestrange is the Black Queen, in case you'd wondered."

"That is disgusting."

Hermione nodded. "It is. But it does make a very neat story, doesn't it?"

She looked him directly in the eyes. The expression on Snape's face was unreadable. Hermione smiled and turned away.

"In case that you don't mind, Professor, I'll go to bed now. I have taken turns with Madam Pomfrey in staying awake, and I need to catch up on sleep."

"Feel free to go," he said brusquely.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Snape and Minerva did not get a chance to speak to each other privately – as long as he stayed in the hospital wing, always at least one of the others was present.

After waking her early on Thursday morning, Poppy only allowed Minerva to see Snape for about five minutes, then she sent her off again – commenting on the fact that Minerva appeared to have slept in her robes, thus certainly not resting properly.

When Minerva re-appeared in the hospital wing some time early in the afternoon, she met Moody, Harry, and Neville already visiting with Snape.

On Friday morning, Minerva went to London to the Ministry building accompanied by Moody. Snape had told them what counter-spells were needed to remove the security measures he had added to the Department of Magical History, and they worked the whole day on it. It was late in the night before they were able to apparate back to Hogsmeade. Moody insisted on inviting Minerva for dinner in The Three Broomsticks, and although she was more than eager to return to the castle, she did not find a way to avoid accepting the invitation.

Against Poppy Pomfrey's advice, Snape left the hospital wing on Friday. He found that someone had fetched his belongings from the Ministry building and put the small trunk in his old rooms at Hogwarts. No one had ever wanted to take over his rooms down in the dungeons, so he moved in again.

Saturday was busy, too. Snape and Minerva saw each other at breakfast in the Great Hall, but did of course not speak of anything personal. The whole castle was bustling with activity in preparation for the feast in the evening. Some guests had already arrived in the morning and toured the castle all day, admiring the added orphanage. Everyone wanted to speak to the Headmistress. Snape locked himself in his rooms once he noticed that Rita Skeeter and her photographer had arrived early and searched the whole castle for him.

On early Saturday evening, Harry wandered through the empty corridors of the castle. Almost everyone was getting ready for the function later that night, and the hallways were deserted. Still, Harry was glad to be wearing his Invisibility Cloak. He had one more thing to do before he could fully join the celebrations, and he did not want any witnesses.

Slowly, he climbed the steps to the Astronomy Tower and opened the door which lead to the ramparts. He had not been there since the night of Dumbledore's death. Dreading the memories, Harry stepped out onto the platform. He felt his eyes water instantly.

Carefully, Harry leaned over the parapet and looked down to where Dumbledore had fallen. He shuddered in the surprisingly chilly evening air.

"Goodbye, Professor…" Harry whispered to the wind.

His feelings about that certain night still were confused. He knew full well that Snape had had no choice, that in fact Dumbledore had begged Snape to fulfil their plan. By now, Harry even felt grateful to Snape for everything his former teacher had done in the war. Still, Harry missed Dumbledore so much that he could not quite overcome his old loathing for Snape.

Harry stayed on the platform for a long time, crying silently. Miserably, he sat down on the cold stone floor and allowed himself to remember the good moments he had shared with Dumbledore.

Suddenly he heard the door to the platform close. Startled, Harry saw that Snape had entered the platform and had closed the door to the staircase. Unless Harry wanted to make his presence known, he was now trapped on the platform with Snape. He crouched down in one corner as silently as he could.

Snape went to exactly the same place where Harry had stood minutes before. He, too, leaned over the parapet and looked down onto the grounds. His hands gripped the ornamental metal railing very hard. For minutes, he stood motionless.

Hardly daring to breathe, Harry watched Snape closely. Snape had actually made an effort to dress for the feast later. He wore old-fashioned, but rather smart black dress robes under his open cloak; and the hair framing his pale, gaunt face did for once not look greasy and unkempt.

After long minutes Snape turned around and leaned against the parapet. His face was like a mask, but Harry saw a single tear running down his left cheek. Desperately, Harry hoped he would not be discovered. He could just imagine what Snape would do to him if he ever learned Harry had seen him in that state.

The door to the staircase opened again. Minerva entered the platform, wearing dress robes of dark emerald green with black and silver embroidery. She looked at Snape for a second, then turned and locked the door behind her.

"Thought I'd find you here," she said softly.

The two professors looked at each other without saying a word.

After a long moment, Minerva walked over to Snape. With him resting against the balustrade, she was almost as tall as he was. Anxiously, Harry waited to see how Snape would react. He had to admire the Headmistress's courage. Harry only wished to be as far away from Snape as possible, but Minerva even raised her hand and gently wiped the tear from Snape's face.

With one quick movement, Snape's left hand caught Minerva's wrist in front of his face. Harry waited for the explosion to come.

Instead, the two of them continued to stare at each other, frozen in their movements.

"It's alright…" Minerva whispered, barely audible.

Snape moaned and nestled his face in her hand. She whispered something else Harry did not understand. Snape looked at her again, and Harry could see his face was wet with more tears now.

Carefully, the tall witch drew him closer. Snape buried his face at her neck, now shaking with furious sobs. He held on to her frail frame with all his strength. Tears were now also streaming down from her eyes, but she did not care and continued to hold the crying man.

Harry by now felt deeply embarrassed to be there, but getting away was out of the question. He tried not to make a sound although he was shivering with cold from the stone floor he sat on. After three or four minutes, he realised to his relief that Snape's desperate sobs subsided and that his breathing grew calmer. Still, he allowed Minerva to comfort him.

"Thank you," he finally whispered hoarsely.

She smiled sadly. "I had wondered already how you could cope with all this without ever breaking down."

Snape straightened up and returned the sad smile.

"I don't know if I ever will cope with all this," he said.

"Probably none of us will."

"True."

He mustered her face closely, then he carefully traced the lightning-shaped cut on her forehead. Harry was surprised that she held still and quietly allowed him to touch her face.

"Does it hurt much?" Snape asked.

"Not at all."

Minerva wiped her face and straightened her robes. Snape turned and looked down over the parapet again

"Don't." She gently pulled him back. "I don't like seeing you like this –"

"It's not an option any more." He actually smiled. "You did put a stop to those thoughts."

With genuine interest, he asked: "How did you know it ever was an option?"

"I didn't _know_. I just never had the impression you valued your own life too highly."

He shrugged vaguely.

"See? And that night after Draco's death, you said something like that – that there was nothing to live for."

"I didn't have much to live for back then." A smirk appeared on his face.

"You may have noticed that this changed only minutes later. Minerva, you did put a stop to these thoughts. I may be haunted by the memories of my deeds, but I will not throw myself off that tower. Not now."

She smiled shyly. "I am glad to hear that."

"Come here."

Harry watched in shock as Snape kissed Minerva. By the look of it, this was not their first kiss, although maybe the first one in quite a while.

After a few seconds they broke apart and stood next to each other in silence.

Harry studied them closely. They did not hold hands or make any other gestures of intimacy, yet Harry could tell by their body languages that they knew each other much better than he had ever imagined.

Still he wondered what that kiss could have meant. None of the two teachers was the easy-going type of person who might occasionally kiss a platonic friend, but the pairing seemed so unlikely to Harry that he could still not quite believe they might actually be lovers.

It grew darker. Harry wondered how long he would be stuck with them here on the tower. He still had to get ready for the function later.

Minerva shivered in the chilly evening air. Without a word, Snape took off his cloak and placed it around her shoulders.

"Thank you."

She cuddled herself in the cloak, watching him in his dress robes.

"You look good tonight," she added.

"No need to sound so surprised," Snape chided her.

She laughed softly. "Sorry. It's just that I've seen you only in dusty, worn-out robes for almost a year now."

Snape turned and surveyed her closely in turn. "Slytherin colours suit you."

"Augusta will be happy to agree with you. She hates when I wear my tartan."

She laughed again. The mood had definitely lightened.

"You feeling better now?" Minerva asked in a warm voice.

"Yes –", he sighed. "Yes, I do."

With some reservation he added: "I think I just needed to say – goodbye."

"It was a terrible thing he did to you," she said seriously.

"A terrible thing _he_ did?"

"Severus, he as good as considered you the son he never had, and yet he made you kill him. That is… well, it's not exactly being nice."

Snape did not answer. Minerva sighed, and studied his face again.

"There is something I need to tell you," she suddenly uttered.

"I did have the impression there was something on your mind in the past few days," he replied apprehensively.

"That night before you woke up, after Poppy had sent me away from the hospital wing – I found something. Albus had left me a letter, explaining your plan."

"So he did tell you after all," Snape said. There was a trace of surprise in his voice.

"It seems that he sensed his death was close, that's why he wrote it. Severus, I want you to read this letter. He said a great deal about you. And… "

Minerva pressed her lips together for a moment, but then she continued resolutely.

"And he had included two of his memories with that letter. The first one was of that night when you returned to our side. The second one was of that conversation when he finally convinced you to – to go through with his plan."

Snape now mustered Minerva closely.

"Does it… matter to you? That I've seen those memories?" she asked a bit anxiously.

"I thought it would matter to you."

"To me? Why?"

"Dumbledore," Snape said quietly. "I told you that he loved you. That does change things a bit, doesn't it?"

"No, it doesn't. I've already told you that it does not matter."

Harry studied the two of them again. Snape's face betrayed some doubt and apprehension, while Minerva's features showed gentle defiance.

"Not any more," she insisted.

Snape reached out and pulled her closer again. He kissed her temple and then held her in his arms.

"So now you do know everything," he said quietly. "I was… a bit afraid to tell you."

"Afraid? Why so?"

He released her from his embrace and held her at arm's length away from him.

"Can't you imagine that? I thought I'd pressure you too much. Telling you that I have loved you all this time, that you were my reason to return…"

He did look worried. Harry had never seen Snape display so much emotion. Minerva, on the other hand, seemed perfectly calm. She reached up to Snape's face again and stroked his cheek softly.

"I love you," she simply said. "Nothing could change that now."

Snape only smiled in return. For once, he seemed lost for words.

Minerva turned and surveyed the Hogwarts grounds from the tower. In the dusk, a few people could be seen on the road from Hogsmeade to the castle.

"I think our guests from Hogsmeade start arriving. Shall we go downstairs?"

She took a few steps towards the door.

"I don't want to."

"Come on, it won't hurt you to be popular for once."

"There will be all kinds of boring speeches, Rita Skeeter will try to interview me _again_, and all those hypocrites will hint that they have, deep down, trusted me all the time.

Half of them will wear 'Harry Potter is my hero' badges or some other nonsense of that kind.

Mrs Longbottom will constantly push her grandson in the direction of the photographers. Everyone will insist on comparing me to Sirius Black, and everyone will compliment me on being such a great teacher for 'The Hero Duo'. – Definitely not my kind of party."

Harry grinned under his cloak, and Minerva exploded with merry laughter.

"This isn't funny," Snape snarled. "Do you know that there's witches sending love letters to me? All of a sudden they seem to confuse me with Lockhart."

"I did notice that you must have burned letters in your fireplace," she said, still giggling. "The ashes were all over the place. Face it; women tend to fall for the dark hero."

"Despicable," he spat out, scowling at the smirk on her face. "And when did you see my fireplace anyway?"

"Last night, after I had returned from London and Hogsmeade. I sneaked into your rooms, but you were asleep already."

"Then why didn't you wake me?"

"Because you were feverish and needed the sleep. Really, you should not have left the hospital wing so early."

"I am fine."

"You are not fine; you were closer to death than to life only two and half days ago. But let's not argue about that," she said decidedly.

Snape made a sound as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind.

With a mischievous smile, he motioned for her to come closer again. His long fingers closed around her wrists and he again held her in front of him.

"So women tend to fall for the dark hero?" he asked in a silky voice.

"Some do," she replied tenderly.

She tried to move closer to him, but he held her away with that strange playful smile broadening. Harry had the impression that Minerva tried in vain to free her hands. A tiny smile very much like his appeared on her face, too.

"That does hurt, you know," she said with a trace of amusement in her voice.

"I know."

He pressed her wrists even stronger. She winced, now definitely struggling to break from the restraint.

"Alright, you do seem to feel better," she said factually. That smile had not disappeared from either one's face.

Snape forced her hands behind her back with a swift movement, thereby pulling her closer to him. She stopped struggling in his constraining embrace and they kissed passionately. After a few seconds, Snape let go of her hands and Harry saw the bruise marks on her wrists. She did not look as if she cared much about them.

They broke apart again. With a surprisingly tender gesture, Snape stroked her cheek lightly. Minerva smiled, massaging her wrists absent-mindedly.

"I was right about your tastes," Snape said, showing his amusement plainly.

"I'm not so sure. The physical extend of that remains to be seen – it's more that I enjoy having one person around who dares to stand up to me. But I think we will find out." She raised one eyebrow.

"So you really want to go on with this?" Snape grew serious again.

"Just what has gotten into you tonight? Don't you want to continue this?"

"I do. Very much so. But I also realise how difficult this will be – for you."

"I don't care!"

"But I do. No matter what they write in the papers right now, my name will never be fully cleared. There will always be mistrust and rumours. And I will always remain a murderer."

"I told you _I don't care_ what the public thinks – and I know who and what you are."

"They will whisper some very nasty things behind your back. You said yourself that a relationship between us was inappropriate. I remember you very worried about the matters of 'former student' and 'half your age'."

She sighed.

"I cannot claim that I don't care about that. This will create problems in the future, we both know that. It _is_ inappropriate, and at some point you will be fed up with being with an old woman -"

Snape tried to interrupt her, but she continued, "What I mean to say is that I am aware of these problems. So are you. If we decide we'll try it anyway, I don't see what public gossip has to do with it."

"I have not much to lose; I've been unpopular all my life. You are the Hogwarts Headmistress, a war hero, and half of the articles about you suggest that you should become Minister for Magic after Weasley – not to mention the fact that your friend Augusta would certainly not like Kitty to have such a scandalous affair."

Minerva's eyes flashed angrily when he mentioned her nickname, but he cut her protest off.

"And most importantly, the general public considers you Dumbledore's widow. Sleeping with his murderer will harm your reputation quite a bit. We could keep this secret, if you want to."

She shook her head.

"Look, I don't much believe in public displays of affection anyway. This is private. But there is no need to keep it totally secret. I think I should tell Remus, for one – I promised I would tell him one day what we fought about in Grimmauld Place. And then, at some time, somebody else will notice we are more than friends – and I don't see the point of denying it then."

"People will wonder anyway why I spend time in Hogwarts without a teaching position."

"Oh, didn't I tell you? Horace wants to resign again at the end of the school year. If you want to, you could become Head of Slytherin again – and Potions Master."

"You mean you'd hire me? You called me a horrible teacher."

"Naturally, you would have to be nicer to your students."

"Never."

She smiled. "Let's just see how this all works out. It does seem that interesting times are ahead of us."

Snape smiled slyly.

"Let's go downstairs," he said. "This might, after all, turn out to be not so bad an evening."

They left the platform, leaving Harry alone. Slowly, he pulled his Invisibility Cloak off and stretched. He was deeply lost in thoughts - looking back, Harry wondered how he and the others could have missed noticing this development. Now that he had watched the couple for a while, it seemed perfectly obvious.

Harry frowned. Everybody knew Alastor Moody was quite taken with Minerva, and had suspected some beginning romance there – but of course no one had thought of Snape. Harry wondered if either Snape or Minerva were aware of Moody's feelings for her.

Walking over to the spot where Minerva and Snape had stood a minute ago, he wondered if he should tell Ron and Hermione what he had witnessed.

No matter what the two teachers had said just now, Harry had the feeling that they would prefer to keep their love secret for a little longer. After all, their relationship seemed fairly new; and Snape had clearly pointed out the disadvantages of everyone knowing about it.

Still wondering what to do, Harry checked his watch and realised it was high time he got ready for the celebration feast. He ran back to his dormitory.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"McGonagall is in love? With Snape???"

Ron could not get over the news. Harry had decided to tell his friends, he had to discuss things with someone and they were sure not to gossip.

After getting ready for the feast, Harry had asked Ron and Hermione to stay behind with him in the Gryffindor common room. Everybody else had already gone down to the Great Hall, and they would have to follow in five minutes at the latest.

Ron stared at Harry, his eyes big and round with disbelief. Harry shrugged.

"You mean, they actually sleep together? They talked about that?" Ron looked half amused, half taken aback. "That's… wicked. I mean, she's so old and all that."

Hermione giggled. "She's not that old. It's a bit unusual that he should be half her age, but really, what's a 40-year-difference in the wizarding world? And I'm sure nobody would care if it was the other way around – you know, if he was the older one."

"I suppose so," Harry said, not fully convinced. "But it's so weird. I mean, they've always hated each other."

"They have never hated each other, Harry," Hermione corrected him, still smiling.

"They always were rivals, and I reckon they still are. But I think Minerva was the only friend Snape ever had here at Hogwarts. Like, remember how they would always walk together by the lake? And he was her chess partner."

"Yeah, but lovers? You don't seem too surprised about that."

"I knew," Hermione replied, looking a little embarrassed.

"What? And you didn't tell us?" Ron was outraged.

"I couldn't. Really, I'm sorry. But I thought it was so obvious."

"Obvious? That? And since when did you know?"

"Well, I knew that she had a new partner ever since that – you know, that girl talk I had with her last week."

Hermione bit her lip, and the boys nodded. Ron and Hermione had told Harry about their worries; he was their best friend after all.

"I first thought it was Mad-Eye Moody," she went on. "Like, everyone suspects there is something going on, right?"

The boys nodded again.

"But then I thought about it, and – ah, Moody just made no sense. Remember that time back in Grimmauld Place – Snape risked _everything_ to bring her there when he thought she was dying. And she had risked her life just to prove he was on our side. No wonder he was angry about that."

"That's what that major fight was all about, then?"

"I don't know. I think so. I mean, Ron, you'd be angry if I risked my life just to do you a favour, wouldn't you?"

"You bet."

"Right. And then Snape shielded her against Voldemort. And after Madam Pomfrey had told her he was dying, remember how pale she looked? I went back to the hospital wing five minutes after she'd shooed us away. I never saw anyone cry that desperately. She had totally broken down."

"Mmm." Harry bit his lip, wondering what to make of this all. "You think this has been going on for a long time?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "I mean, I think they must have felt that way for a long time. But that they admitted it to each other – I think that's fairly new. But I don't know."

She checked the big grandfather clock by the portrait hole. "We have to get going."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The function turned out to be just as Snape had predicted it. One boring speech followed another, and almost every speaker insisted on hinting that he had, all the time, suspected that both Snape and Sirius had always been on their side. Snape looked murderous and refused to speak to anyone.

Last of all, Arthur Weasley, the acting Minister for Magic, held his speech. He alone admitted how the Order had constantly discussed the matter of Snape's true loyalty, and that most of them had, at first, found it extremely difficult to consider even the possibility of trusting him again.

Minerva looked up in surprise; then nodded to Mr Weasley in respect for his honesty. She granted him one of her usually very rare smiles.

Arthur smiled back and turned to face Snape.

"Severus," he said gravely, "I have to ask you to forgive us all. You have saved countless lives in this war, both before and after Albus Dumbledore's death. We should have known that you are no common murderer, but that this was an agreement between the two of you. Obviously you had to keep it secret. I am glad that there were those among us who understood this afterwards – Minerva, of course, but also Remus, Hermione, and my son Bill."

Arthur smiled again, and Snape nodded somewhat awkwardly. Mr Weasley turned to the Hogwarts Headmistress.

"Minerva, thank you for opening Hogwarts for this function. We have enjoyed an excellent dinner, and I think there have been enough boring speeches for tonight – let the celebrations begin. I'd be honoured if you, as our hostess, would open the dance with me."

"Certainly, Arthur."

Gracefully, they started dancing. Minerva was a good dancer and obviously enjoyed it, and tall Arthur Weasley led her into a waltz with a big smile on his face. With some amusement, Harry noticed that both Snape and Moody leaned forward, watching the dancing couple closely.

Soon, other couples joined the dance, too. Charlie Weasley waltzed with his beaming mother, Remus Lupin and Tonks danced in close embrace, and even Ron allowed Hermione to lead him to the dance floor. When the song ended, Moody got up quickly and asked Minerva for the next dance.

The music got faster, and the dance floor was now crowded with laughing people. Everybody was relieved that the official part of the function was now over. The twins set of the fireworks they had installed. Several of the students and guests screamed with delight when Flitwick charmed the ceiling to send down a shower of tiny, sparkling stars.

Snape remained seated. Clearly, he was not going to join the more joyful part of the celebrations.

Harry drew in a deep breath and mustered all his courage for the task he had set himself. He walked over to the staff table and looked Snape directly in the eyes.

"Professor Snape? Might I have a word?"

Snape's cold eyes glittered. This whole feast had certainly not done much to improve his mood. Harry found it very hard to remind himself that he had seen this man laughing only about three hours ago.

"Sit down, Potter," he said slowly.

"I have a confession to make," Harry managed to get out. He remained standing although his knees were shaking a little.

"And what might that be about?" Snape spoke in that low voice Harry had come to fear in the past few years.

"I was there at the tower," Harry blurted out, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Tonight, I mean. I went there, but I was under my Invisibility Cloak and then you entered and I could not get away and then – well, I saw you and Professor McGonagall."

Snape stared back at Harry, his expression totally blank.

"And why, pray, did you not care to make your presence know to me – to us?" Snape finally answered, his voice a furious whisper.

"Because I was afraid of you – of how you'd react," Harry replied truthfully.

"Is that so."

Harry nodded nervously, still waiting for Snape to start shouting at him. On the contrary, Snape seemed much on his guard.

"Nosy, just like your father was." A muscle went in Snape's right cheek. "So what are you going to do now?"

"Nothing," Harry said, surprised. "Well, I must admit I did tell Ron and Hermione. But she knew already. Why should I do anything else?"

"Then why did you tell me?"

"Because it didn't feel right, spying on you like that. I just thought you should know."

Harry blinked, thinking that he would not be able to stand Snape's icy gaze much longer. With one last apologetic smile, he walked away from the table.

"Potter?" Snape called him back. Harry turned around slowly and faced Snape once more.

"That was very – very decent of you. You might be as nosy as your father was, but you do lack some of his arrogance."

Snape's face showed plainly that saying something remotely positive about Harry cost him great effort. Harry grinned with relief.

"Thank you, Professor. You know –" he cleared his throat, "I think it's rather cool."

Snape's eyes narrowed, as if he suspected Harry was making fun of him.

"She looked happy," Harry said earnestly. "Happier than I've ever seen her before. I think she deserves that. Both of you do, after all that you've done for us."

"Off you go, Potter," Snape replied.

His voice had been even, but Harry felt certain Snape had almost smiled. He turned around and started looking for Ginny. Hermione had hinted that maybe Ginny would not be angry if he asked her for a dance or two.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Many hours later, the feast was still going on although most of the guests had left. Ron and Hermione sat comfortably cuddled together on one of the tables, watching the few couples left on the dance floor. Bill and Fleur were dancing slowly in the far corner where it was darkest; Hagrid and Olympe Maxime close to them.

Minerva was dancing with a Ministry wizard neither Ron nor Hermione knew. She had been quite popular all evening; almost every one of the invited guests and even a few of the older students had asked her to dance.

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked, looking around.

"Taking a walk with Ginny. I think they have some important things to discuss."

"I thought she would not talk to him any more?"

"Oh, she is angry. He broke up with her, and she is the only one of all your family who could not join the Order and help officially. But she knows that Harry broke up with her because he thought being with him would endanger her."

"So what now?"

"I don't know." Hermione smiled. "But they were a nice couple, who knows what will happen."

"Yeah, I reckon Harry is right for Ginny after all. Speaking of couples – " Ron watched his Headmistress on the dance floor. "Where's Snape? He did not dance with her all evening."

"Honestly, Ron, can you see Snape enjoying a dance? He's not the type." Hermione laughed.

They watched the dancing couples again. Ludo Bagman, his robes covered with Flitwick's glittering stars, had now cut in and insisted on another dance with Minerva.

"She does look pretty for her age," Ron said after a few minutes.

"That she does," a voice growled suddenly. Moody stomped closer to them, also watching Minerva. He held something small in his right hand, distractedly playing with the object.

"Think this dancing will go on for long now?" Moody asked.

Ron yawned. "Probably not. It must be like, what, three in the morning?"

"Yes." Hermione got up and loosened her muscles. "I think I'll go to bed soon. Amazing how they can still do all that dancing; I feel more like sleep-walking."

"Mmm." Moody scowled. He leaned against the table, still playing with that small thing in his hand.

"What's that you've got there, Moody?" Ron asked curiously.

"Well –", Moody turned to look at them. "Can you two keep a secret?"

He grinned and poured himself a drink from the hip-flask he always carried.

"Sure," Ron said.

"Here." Moody held the object out for Hermione to take. "Might not be wrong to ask for a female opinion anyway."

Hermione took the small box and opened it carefully. "Is that –" she gasped, taking out a small, delicate ring.

"Scottish gold. Ruby for the Gryffindor colours," Moody explained happily.

"Think she'll like it?" he added, pointing to Minerva.

Ron and Hermione exchanged an uneasy look, none of them quite knowing what to say.

"It's beautiful," Hermione then said carefully. "Very beautiful, but – Moody, I hope this does not mean what I think it means?"

"Well," Moody cleared his throat, "sure it does. You know I like her very much, and now with the war over and almost a year having passed since Dumbledore's death I thought I'd ask her…"

Hermione frowned. She handed the ring back to Moody.

"Don't ask her. She'd say no," she said solicitously.

"You think so? Is it still too early?" Moody asked back; very disappointed.

"She would say no," somebody else confirmed quietly.

Turning around, they saw Snape standing behind them. Apparently he had listened to their conversation.

"For certain," he added, in a surprisingly kind voice.

"How would you know?" Moody snarled. The old animosity between the two men flared up immediately, but for once, Snape decided not to pick a fight.

"I just know," he said gently. "There is – someone else."

Moody growled something incomprehensible and stuffed the ring box back into his pocket. Turning away from Snape, he saw Minerva leaving the dance floor and coming towards them.

"That's it for me, I think," she said, smiling a little. "If anyone still wants to go on celebrating, they will have to do it without the hostess. I'm going to bed."

She brushed some of the stars off her robes.

"You must be tired after all that dancing," Snape replied with a tiny smirk.

"Not too tired," she replied, her eyes sparkling at him.

"We should hold dances here in Hogwarts more often. Yule Balls and such – but why do you all look so gloomy?"

"Nothing," Moody said gruffly.

"Nothing," Snape agreed.

Minerva's sharp eyes examined both men closely, but then she decided to let the matter drop. "Alright – goodnight then."

She looked at Snape for a split second, who nodded curtly at the other ones. Side by side, they walked away from the small group.

"You!" Moody suddenly exclaimed.

Both Snape and Minerva turned around slowly. Snape gestured for Minerva to go on, but she remained standing at his side.

"You?" Moody said again, this time more doubtful.

Snape and Moody exchanged a long look, Snape wearing the same, strangely kind expression as before.

"Yes," Snape said quietly.

Moody now looked Minerva in the eyes, who suddenly seemed to understand what the whole exchange was about. "Yes," she whispered, too. "Alastor, please –"

"I see," Moody interrupted huskily. He gazed at Snape again.

"You will look after her." It was an order, not a question.

"Always," Snape replied solemnly.

Moody finally broke the gaze and looked away from them all. After hesitating a few seconds, Snape and Minerva turned around and walked on. Snape put his right hand on the small of her back in a comforting manner.

"I reckon it is good I never asked her then," Moody finally said.

Hermione reached out and squeezed his arm affectionately.

"Think she'll be happy?" Moody asked with some effort.

"Yes," said Ron, his eyes still following the strange couple. "Both of them will be. Probably for the first time in their lives."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_**The End**_

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_A/N: That's it, folks. I do hope you enjoyed this story.__ I guess it's easy to see that Severus/Minerva is my One True Pairing, and making this as believable and in-character as possible was my one big goal. Don't forget I live and breathe on reviews ;-)_

_I would again like to thank PercyWeasel and Ellen Fawkes for translating this fic into English and helping me a lot while the story was in progress. You guys made excellent suggestions, pointed out mistakes, and your help on the timeline was much appreciated… you simply were the best betas one could wish for. _


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